Our shopping cart
has become
our walker
as the clouds
that cover us
get wispy,
and all our
yearnings
are falling
through,
so to perk up
that lonely meat,
we’ll need
a good
bottle of vodka.
It was the longing, seeking,
striving, waiting, yearning,
for rich milk chocolate
that tempted me
to sin.
The grocery clerk
slid other items by,
and I hung my head
to dig for quarters,
but the truth
hiding in my pocket,
was mine for the taking.
I felt past
my confessional days
with my back to the wall
where sliding screens
could diffused my sins,
and only the priest
would know why I blush
or cringe beneath
his blessing.
In my backyard,
a rabbit watched
as the candy wrappers
were the last to fall,
and without asking
he chomped my grass,
never spitting out
sweet guilt.
It was not love,
but love alone
that I was feeling,
and my salty stolen tears
at last I’ve found you.