My Sins

By Christianez Dennis

They are but sins,

My dreams…

Of crystal skies and biting winds

The crunch of leaves underneath my tread,

Aromatic tea and freshly baked bread.

Scintillating tunes, as I laugh while I work.

The silent war of scratches, between paper and ink

As my heart drips slovenly, I forget to think.

Bronzed evenings, scented with coffee.

The taste that caramelizes the bitterness of strife,

As I get lost between the pages of someone else’s life.

Solitary nights, set to the score of crickets chirping

And a tear that glistens in the corner of my eyes

As the constellations serenade me to the far-off skies…

Oh, yet, these are but sins,

My dreams…

While I should have longed for the hooded eyes

The intricate fallacies and the fog of deceit.

Where thrill is easy but laughter a feat.

Chicane smiles and hidden agendas

Climbing up the ladder of prestige through pretence,

While the glitter in the air numbs every sense.

Exquisite dances, as we tiptoe around feelings

As our high heels crush the painful smiles,

And our masks delude our bloodshot eyes.

Lusty nights and clambering emptiness,

Hiding behind opulence and a glass of champagne

Because nobody understands the winner’s pain.

By Christianez Dennis