grazing wretched nails over plausible deniability
because the ground cradles me so fast
i could scream, guilt puddling around my feet
is a lack of pain something shameful ?
what god could punish me now-
retribution is dissolved by supposed healing
but my palms are reaching for some damnation
loving a girl is terrifying enough,
mouthfuls of tree sap, willow
and her nails will not sink in.
fingertips graze a mouth of sin.