truth leaks between words
when solitude bends
& cradles the past we are
always a child
within the recesses
of a smile  the sinner
kneeling before the altar
of our saint we are
sands of time adrift
in a storm never recollecting

each caught between
nail beds and wisps of hair
tied in ribbons of distant youth
we are mirrors cracked
& misshapen
seldom self reflecting
for fear that if we silence
the noise too long
we'll be caught
listening to sobs
of rain collecting
in gutters heaving

with resistance
an ever aching
reverberation
who have I become
who have
I
        become?