Done

I suck down my pride
Like a whore sucks cock,
Swallow hard,
And rinse your taste
Away
With a smooth shot
Of grace
I bless and curse
This game we’ve played,
And done,
I collect my pay,
And wave the
White flag
Of defeat.

Nothing new

I cradle the weight
Of karmic law
Alone.
Oh... she senses,
But she cannot see.
The tale of siblings
Too intertwined
To be stripped apart by sin,
A punishment that she still lives,
That she still breathes.
And now,
Her anger and her fears
Pierce parchment,
Crisp and corroded,
With fire, forbidden desire,
And the memory of
Cotton gowns
Worn and blue,
While we held each other
Scraping enamel from
A crumbling pew.
In Akashic temples
I find our records,
Rested and restored,
I read quickly,
Significantly moved,
While she stumbles
Over a language
Unknown by most,
And spoken by few,
While I weep once again,
For knowing
This is nothing
New.