Poetry

The name. You were my
flesh, my bones. Forgive
me for this moment. I am
burning all my belongings.

Looking at small things,
weather beaten. I have
come back to pay my
indelible debt.

Darkness was always there.
Who am I to light the candles
in storm to glorify the thoughts―
the shrine of past sins?

Ichthyotic. I am peeling
off the skin, the dirt― the stains.
Want to stand naked, firm, rigid
and erect in my aloneness.

It was time to climb blood totem.