confession SH AW N
for you whenever we listen to the sacraments, they slip past our hearing and trail down our spines as the cacophony of our hushed declarations echo against the reverend’s booming voice. whenever we witness penance from our brethren, we hang our heads low; murmuring our apologies, concealing our trespasses in the space between us. whenever we sing along to the poetry of our prayer I clasp your fingers close— clutching your palms tight ‘til the last key reaches its coda. whenever we veer to meet the stares of the faithful, I could never bring myself to lift my gaze (but you could) knowing that I found a leeway to gaze into your eyes to graze my lips on your cheeks (even just for a little while). I stay close behind you in the queue, following the smallness of your back towards the frontmost row.
P O E T RY
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