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Outside the shopping mall on Tuesday evening
I stand in the shelters.
My heart yelled
but my mouth was silenced
by the specks of white,
whip-like lightning cracks
that threatened my existence.

I still had to go home,
by my sexual sins that were
swallowed into my stomach
burnt like hell.
Anytime the heavens got angry
would be the time my heart
can stop repeating "Sorry!"
Only the sky and I know when.