To interiorize

the depths of

my own ignorance.

To flinch

when doubting

my own goodness.

To eternally

expand the discovery

of wearing

a stranger’s mind.

 

To lose oneself

hiking the alpine

concupiscence

of one’s own soul.

Is to remove a layer

of this blindfold.

 

To stare

at the slim gleams

of my anger.

To break

my crystal shame

and past tense blame.

To condone

those grudges

against myself.

 

To lose oneself

hiking the alpine

concupiscence

of one’s own soul.

Is to remove a layer

of this blindfold.

 

To observe

my oscillating existence

with a steady word.

To forsake

the fears

I inherited of old.

And to finally discover

that I am love

clasped in dust.

 

To lose oneself

hiking the alpine

concupiscence

of one’s own soul.

Is to remove a layer

of this blindfold