Sin-Eater.

He walked alone for a day,

looking at the past.

It was a black and white movie,

in a small theater,

with cold popcorn,

and ancient seats,

with no padding.

His past life convicted him of his sins.

Who was he to judge hers?

In his movie,

the characters moved silently,

unaware,

sleepwalking through life.

They spoke words to other cardboard cutouts,

without ears to hear,

or eyes to see.

He wished he knew a sin-eater

capable of devouring his sins,

in an orgy of gluttony.

He wanted to test his new found understanding

in the cauldron of passion,

next to her naked skin.

He wanted to speak truths to her.

He wanted to hold her tightly,

against the tide of man

against man.

How could he explain to her

that his sins were greater than hers?

How could he explain  in an air-conditioned theater,

in technicolor,

with plush seats,

holding her hand

telling her his truth,

and promises of eternal love.

He wanted to whisper words of passion

into her waiting ears

inviting her to touch him

in places only she knew how to reach.

 

Instead, he just held her hand.