ash wednesday

Unclean. I am unclean
and weary on this pedestal
I’ve scaled.

Destined to walk
always in shadow,
I waiver waist-deep

in the wilderness,
for, oh my soul (irrevocably soiled)
trembles,

and an ashen cross
upon my flesh
makes my witness false.

Dare I press
my lips to the chalice
of redemption?

I cannot recall my last confession.
Nor can I recall the last time
His broken body graced my tongue.