fallacies of the soul

“Fallacies of the Soul”

As children, we tried hard not to cut our feet
Wading into the glacial harbors of home.

We persecuted anyone who dared explore the boundary of our inner circle;
scrambling away from the foreigners towards the waters edge as angelfish nipped at our heels.

They tried to save us, but the long hot summer and our absolute certainty of damnation tethered us to dry, never ending highways and broken hearted priestly figures.

Some weary travelers arrived at the station with no baggage;
Free to come and go from the station as they pleased.

They would disappear as the delusions end neared, but still, we envied their ignorance: the autonomy of their detached exclusivity and fragmented sense of purpose.

For words are not considered sin unto those who ask it upon themselves.

The fallacies of the soul reveal themselves.
Sprouting bitter fruit inconsistently like hard summer crabapples in place of thorny branches-
Forgotten and tossed from the vine,
Washing up upon the shore as the seasons change.