their cages touch, prison bars rattling
mine louder
his embracing.
I'm sorry, I am not. Brave
hands are already catching me, words
denying my confession. We know
I am right; I am not.
Tonight is the night he has stopped trying;
there is no point in leaving,
he will always come back, he knows.
I know. He holds me.
He kisses my wrists. I am messy;
my sadness in bloodstains,
I am messy; he kisses my face
You are innocent, he says.
I am fiction, I know. He buries his feet
in the ground. You are holy.
I am not, he kisses me again.
Sacred, he says, Amen.
