therapy
hour
a
poet’s lour
discussion
dance
weary,
askance
about
a childhood moment
how
a pastor of atonement
raped
me
hour
over
suddenly
finds
me
with
something
i
had never talked about
before
with anyone
but
hour was over
suddenly
and
sidewalk passage
offered
no balm
to
the oozing sore
i
had become
stopped
to purchase
liquor
store
drank
two pints of whiskey
in
the time it takes
to
watch a commercial
about
friskies cat food
don’t
remember much after that
next
morning felt sick as shit
suffocating
in self-loathing
didn’t
play
stayed
did
chores
till
i swept the floor
from
shore to shore
but
nothing seemed cleaner
than
before
from
a penitent position
of
scrubbing
i
raised myself to my full height
looked
up at the void
most
call the sky
and
asked,
“where
do we lay our burdens down?”
***
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