Truth... till it Kills You

In the church that I left behind in my youth, St. Francis De Sales, there was a new mode called the Open Confessional.

The Repentant sits face-to-face with the Pastor and professes all Sins;

and Eye-to-eye receives Penance.

In this Spirit I will write my Vice and those of the Opposition:

I tell the Truth,

but not the whole of it... my sin is of Omission.

And You...

embellish and encode what Lies between.

I pretend to see what's Underneath.

You try to read from what is Given.

It's a warm and fuzzy screen of feeling,

embracing all our Hail Mary's...

And given Acts of Contrition...

10 Million Words and still asking with Resistance.

Truth:

. . . did I miss You . . ?

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