The Great Crime

You will lay aside your suspicions of me.
Slide the doormat over your back,
be still.
I turn silver coin accusation
between my finger tips
and flip.

The great crime, I ask you,
a civil war inside me,
or you?

My innocence is like this!

Your guilt is a private loss,
but the way you droop confidence
downward, as if the ground
will forgive you,
shows my victory,

and in my voice, forgiveness,
but my gut smirks.
I am a temple of construction.

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9 thoughts on “The Great Crime

  1. You speak of once witnessing a desperation in the eyes and pleading voice of another. I see this too in certain people who live trapped by guilt. Love your piece.

    David

    1. 🙂 I love this comment because it is words I could not find when I was thinking of this piece. Thank you very much!!

  2. I love the last piece–and in my voice forgiveness, but my gut smirks–sometimes it is nearly impossible to completely surrender the ego and not feel a small validation when you’ve been wronged and the doer apologizes. I’m living this RIGHT now–yes indeed–I am a temple of construction. very nice!

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