A pistol fires four times; heartbeat stops in the chest.
Faint mist of plentiful sin leaps forward from my lips.
Hollow cries for admonishment and grace.
To the gentleman running into the cafe: “Please! Intervene!”
Pick up the phone; come running, shout.
As it stands now,
waiting a lifetime for someone to get involved.
A pacifist in a violent world.
Negligent, devoid of responsibility,
or living with a guilty conscience;
penance versus justice.
Wallet and phone emptied from my pockets; tumbling down.
All of the idleness I’ve committed paid out in sanguineous shades of red.
At the intersection of 38th and Union Avenue.
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