Time runs out.

Your banter has a political bent.
I stay in position, authentic / inauthentic;


I model your bifurcated attitude
yet

everything I do is sin. One after another piles up if
or when —

This is when.

The nuclear self, writing you, lingers for a moment or more... Huh? Now you know I did it.

I wish I hadn’t / I wish I didn’t.
Go-fund-me off that.