Sins against the body

are most often made

by the self. 

My body bears 

witness to all it

commits— the evil 

and virtuous mark me,

like brands on my 

skin. They run in silver

rivers of my hair

and in the valleys of

my palms. They swirl

through the blood in

my veins. Greed flits

in the air of my 

lungs, pride making

friends with the alveoli. 

In and out of my mouth

it flows, free as the 

wind that brushes 

the envy streaked 

hair across my brow. 

The anger finds

home in the prints

of my fingers, pulsing 

against all they touch. 

Lust hides within

dilated pupils and 

darkened irises, seeking

the welcomed sins

of others upon my skin. 

Gluttony and Indolence 

consume the virtues,

pulling them into 

vast dreams of indulgence.

“I am much too quick

to repent.”