I love feeling my sins
inside the bones
of my fingers
poised over
the pages of a book
peeking out
to have a little look

I hate hearing
your heart beat
thud
tick
too far away
for me to measure
someone else's treasure
now

my soul
your soul
untethered
yearning to soar
gliding on swan lakes
like Russian ballerinas
and fine filigree flakes
floating down
as the night wakes