12 Poems Of Joy - VIII
VIII
She looked at the floor and wall and was uncomfortable,
and I did not smile.
I did not say her name.
She told me her family secret,
and I made a joke of it,
and we laughed.
She spat and snarled
and made claws.
I shrugged and looked away.
God, how can I ever atone for my sins?
Labels: poetry