dear cain,

i am going to be direct.

if i said "i forgive you,"
would that defeat the point?
i guess you wouldn't know.
i guess i'd have to ask the great brilliant sun
who's sitting next to me up here.

but the point of you is a lesson learned,
and if the lesson kills me,
but the learning is immortally good —
well, i wouldn't have it any other way.

i was perfectly young and perfectly stupid,
and you were perfect too;
your mouth that soothed
and your hands that slaughtered
and your forehead that bent under its wine-colored cross.

if i could, i would touch your mouth and wash your hands,
but your forehead i wouldn't touch;
because your suffering is perfect too.

it makes me think about who got the worse end
of the deal,

and who broke this deal in the first place, anyway.