between the entrance and the exit lies a sin i paid in bits to make
it grows
slow
between the seconds of each hour and the looks of each day i live
see in the reflections of dusty windows
the bulge heavy in its place
folded within each layer of skin falling over
to hide
losing itself and its purpose
to kill
to lie
to instill fear in this space of respiring bodies overgrown like fat dandelion weed
composed and gentle but each part longing to detach and fly off to another place
waiting for my breath to come
to be released from their bonds
the middle that holds them still
i forgot myself
between the entrance and the exit of seasons
having overstayed my summer day allowance
grew desperate in autumn and fell in winter
never to see my sin bloom in spring
to repeat
me.