Growing in sin.

We lived fast then,
steeped in the beauty
and divinity of sin.
Giving two fingers
to law and order
living wild on the mountain.

I remember you humming
a tune, sweet Caroline,
and the sun in terminal decline,
dying in flames
on a western sky line.

Silhouettes twilight shadows
night falling a gauze of purple
veils that fade to black
at frayed edges.

my breathe blowing life
into umber coals,
firelight painting you a saint
in orange luminance,
sparks carry prayers to
darkness.

Days pursued us
across the plains and hills
of youth.
we a band of two,
desperados making do on love
living fast and fucking slow
in the shadow of life
descending,

An angel growing
in your womb.
the end of sin,
the age of penance begins.

-Dave Kavanagh

2 thoughts on “Growing in sin.

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