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