Friday, 6 June 2014


Spring, five years ago
A child still and reckoning
With the future
I committed the gravest sins
With you.
It is as real as real as real
A big, black mark
On my blotter.
Unresolved and unabsolved
Still a criminal now
As much as then
There is blight
On my leaves
And rot
At my roots.
I am defiled forever more.

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