Sins: Despair

Sitting atop ashes of sky pretending away your sadness.

The wind is a giver of wings but this boulder will not move.

Rooted to the ground,

curled chains of flooded rivers breaking

the dam of your eyes.

Here again today,

holding the fragments of a crescent abandoned by night

alive in the gnarled hands of those

who carry their feet like a prayer.

Rose petals are also blood,

I learnt.

But only blood is blood,

and only blood marks


and bloats

then seeps out like a trapped whisper.

But here again today

thumbing soil,

looking for leprechauns at a rainbow’s grave.

Rocks are gray,

so are walls,

and so are promises dropped carelessly on concrete to be kicked around then forgotten.

Yet sometimes,

grazing the air

color streams out.

Ribbons of blues and purples,

deep maroons and forget-me-not yellows,

guards against the hues of ash.

And here again today,

brilliant, shimmering,

standing on the rubble of the heavens

that softens to hold you.

Cover art: Mohau Modisakeng, Passage 2017.

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