All His Sins Remembered
This soul that waits like cold smoke over dark and silent waters. He had spent a lifetime denying my presence. He had mortared and bricked me from the sun and moon, from the wind and rain. But still I lived in the silence between his heartbeats, in the suffocating confines of his conscience.
This night, I stand trembling as a lover come to quench a lusting thirst, filling as though stars were rising in my eyes. The cemetery, holding fast the darkness between pale stones, becomes a mute witness to my unfolding. Here in this necropolis, my memories come in gatherings like dried leaves, scurrying and scratching in cool moonlit breaths and then are no more. I kneel before his grave and knead fingers through fresh soil, inhaling the intoxication of time and night whose mating had produced such a rapacious daughter to lay within—all his sins remembered.
I gaze at the words chiseled upon the marble headstone. I had but murdered a killing stranger with a familiar name and visage. Nothing more.
I watch the moon slipping gracefully through reaching fingers—save those of mine own. I whisper my farewell. The past is dead and as true as the rock-filled coffin beneath me. I am dead, never to return. I am reborn, to begin again.
I walk through the cemetery gates and into an unfathomable night, till at last I stand naked and raw and beautiful. My eyes filling with stars.