Indulgence’s Reward  

Indulgence’s Reward  

You will cut the name
out of your brain,
your heart will complain.
You will shed tears

then return to empty pages
that fill you with words
as if they were sons and daughters.
You will shed words

like old coats
and they will grow cold
without a body.
You are not a prophet,

just practiced in good-byes, 
impaled upon the sword 
of this world whose love 
turns a knife in its own heart.