Redemption

crucified on the cross of words 
my memories of the butterflies 
as they prepare for 
the last flight 
from the tip of tongue 
stepping on the footprints of my roses 

tearing a part of
my right hip 
the lost page with the shades 
of the eyes of an eagle
rinse your mouth with the blue blood 
and spit out a part of me 
to rise up in ether 

me, empting of myself 
from pale face page 
with the a bite of a fruit 
having remorse of a killer dream 
and then 
to love without sin