When I look at you,
something strange yet familiar washes over me.

I stand under the shower of emotion -
lathering it into my hair, scrubbing it roughly into my skin, allowing it to wash away every sin I've ever had.

I've had many, so I stand here for a long time.

But your voice, your voice calls to me and beckons me to come out.

Come out of there. Come to me. You're clean now.

I've never been clean, or at least I don't remember a time when I wasn't. But I trust you. Your eyes are gentle and there's no hint of malice in the corners of your mouth when I step into the room.

Come here.

I sit next to you on the bed and you pull me into your side, my head instinctively seeking the beat of your heart.
It mimics the single thought that throbs in some dark corner of my mind.

I trust you. I trust you. I trust you.

Trusting another heart has been my biggest sin. But this doesn't feel wrong.

Maybe I'm making a mistake,
but everything about this feels right.