The White of Purgatory

[font=1]Laying in the white of purgatory
I count my sins and watch them multiply
Like fluttering strips of charred paper,
They adhere to skin
And sometimes, the bone.
Curled at the edges, each legible
Each painfully clear.
Reminders of moments
Moments that should have been snatched back.
Moments where the tongue could have halted
The eyes should have gazed
And with my lips, I should have projected smiles
Not distance
Not any sense of insecurity
Failure
Distress.

What I need is that reminder
Something other than
Fallen feathers
Streaks of white
Burnt offerings and repentance
And the prayers of the naive.
I need to see that flash of recognition
The glow in your eyes, that scent, those tones.
My redemption is in that smile.
Sweet salvation in that laugh.

Do not let me rot, my dear.
When I am lost
You are the one I wish to find
Forever and always
A beacon in my eyes.