If only the river water
washed off the veils
we use to cloak ourselves
even though
the human stains
we attempt to hide
with immaculate cotton
wick to the weave
like pious blood
blossoming into the world
thus shouting
I am a Sinner
when the only sin
is covering up
to hide the shame,
fruitlessly believing
your innermost thoughts
might escape
the notice of the divine.
copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney
Reblogged this on Pretoria Poetry Club.
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Thanks. So kind of you.
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Don’t mention it.🖒
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