For three years I have done penance
for sinning against my brother.
What sin stains the soul so deeply?
Only love.
And since I learned the source of my error--
the failure of Reason, the wet sponge of feelings--
I have walked too carefully in my carefully bought shoes.
But I came to the end of the sidewalk.
All that is left to walk across is empty, white canvas.
Even clean shoes would leave marks.
But I and my feet will smudge it blacker than cavities,
for in all my years, I have not gained
the strength to overcome love.
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