you bare a thousand sins upon your shoulders, and a million sins scar your skin. they cover every inch of your body in a particular fashion, woven together in a tapestry for all to see. they whisper to me in hushed tones, and they beckon me to look at it, those twisted obsidian voices.

ink plagues you. it chokes out what used to be your grace.

a black snake slithers up your arm, alive and creeping. (veins or sin? ink or skin?)

a golden apple rests in your palm.

a tale of war is splattered across your back, savage yet heavenly. every temptation you have given into. every temptation mankind has fallen into by your will alone.

every evil deed is etched into your skin so that i may see.

i hold out my acceptance for you to take.