caves in my chest

flood and collapse

I breathe, again,

hearing them hollow

I should confess.

I should turn myself in,

And let the jury handle the rest.

I am guilty.

Although not pre-meditated,

I worked quite neatly.

No weapon,

No prints.

I'll have no one to convince.

I didn't know this person,

I have no motive to kill.

Is that lying under oath,

If I did it for the thrill?

Should I leave?

Why am I here anyway?

If I don't go,

nothing will happen.

Following impatience,

I might lose something precious.

Every ache advances,

waiting here for someone,

Anything.

volumes line shelves.

partitions on walls isolating recalls.

Some decorous scrolls of romanced love.

Many scripts of chores and errant rule.

None have passed through me

the way I brush by them when leaving a room.