sloughing sin

histories suffocate
under the
vibrancy of these lush
tropical nights, and
I scream
for release,
only to awaken here
naked,
next to you.



Knowing knows
and you don't 
know
nothing.
but,
my love,
neither do I.



so,
we learn to creep,
penitent and
proud,
thrusting subtlety here,
and there.

we learn to cleave unto memory..

memories woven by old spiders 
and old women,
woven to adorn the
stooped shoulders 
of kings
fallen.