Good Intention and Regret

Taking

moments only

in windows

overlooking

the silence

of the white (of the)

snow on the lake,

we spend our time

in the basement

most days.

But once,

when we were in the Light

I dusted off your crucifix

while we waited

for the tea to steep.

You played me a song

about friendship.

Maybe,

you thought I was an alien.

I did pray to Buddha

before the time I saw you last,

to keep me pure,

honor the boundary.

Now,

when I see

What I have already done,

I’m wishing I had kissed you

then,

that time

you gave me

your stainless steel

garbage can.