Confessional

Maybe a bit dramatic, but I light

candles with my breakfast, wear a white gown 

around the house like a virgin. Right

or wrong, forgive me? No one in this town 

knows forgiveness. Miles from the limits

if I squint, there’s Orion. If heaven

exists I will be there in a minute

to hop the pearly gates, a ghost felon,

to find him. Of blood, of mud, of wise men. 

But who am I now after all these years 

without him: boy widow barbarian

trapping hornets in my shit grin. He’ll fear 

who I’ve been since. He’ll see I’m a liar,

a cheater, a whole garden on fire.