I am life unraveled,

sinew and synapse

shrouded in silence,

a captive of conflated

consciences.

Transgressions abide patiently,

inopportunely arising,

denying tranquility’s touch.

For you I have resurrected myself

with no stone to move,

no cross to clatter

along our empty street.

For you I have suffered incessantly

until the ache is euphoric,

cross-wired long ago with love unvetted,

oblivious.

Unkept secrets dissolve distrust.

You shall remain shallow, bound

while I will forever remain

entangled.

James Nichols