First Confession
It’s a dirge. If you listen underneath
you’ll hear love refrain warp to weft
of lust. It interrupts with memories
sunlight on rain-spattered sidewalks.
Here the café you declared your love
over too-hot cappuccino. Today you sit
across the terrace, face toward the back.
You’ve replayed their refrains through
the endless night – a phase, normal
progression, momentary lapse, slip
of discretion. You push excuses aside,
straighten your manly shoulders, look
into her eyes clear as any turquoise
ocean. You bow your head, watch
invisible skin stretch over your espresso.
“Bless me darling, for I have sinned.”
