Sins Of My Breath

Everyday I awake with the same taste
I burden myself with the stale dryness on my tongue
I recognize this taste of my lies
Reminding me of all the sins

Sins are a wave moving closer to shore
The morning sun can not cover the storm
Brewing within as water does in my kettle

Kettle of her breath
i breathe in her taste pure and simple
I breathe in each sin I kiss her slower
Pretend it is not me she is in love with

Face my own face
She says, "Pretty blue eyes"
I can not erase my intentions of nothingness
This relationship I try to disguise
In this morning of haste
My hands and finger nails gutless

I place the pillow between my head and bed
The taste resides for a moment
I pull my tongue back like I swallowed
It in my mouth and leave empty

Spit is lurking beyond my teeth
The shape of her body covers the blankets
With an outline of my sin dies
I breathe again in the taste of mourning
Of a death she can not see of truth
To grieve in these "pretty blue eyes"