​32. Not for Human Consumption

There’s white chalk

Skyward,

These big streaks

Against the twilight

That remind me of nails

Dragging down the paint

Of the canvas.

It’s like how everything

Was given to us,

Perfect and packaged,

Until we ripped into

And through it,

Revealing

The underneath,

The “not for human

Consumption”

But we play away

anyway.

And feel the burning

Sin in these guilty

Human hands.