the sweep of forgiveness falls over us
like an ocean, heavy with the words we forgot.
solemnly, his vision blurs to the weight;
it plunges down into his chest.

and now that he cannot lift his neck,
he is trapped, wrapped taut in invisible chains -
he will look forever at words he once forgot,
and they will slide slow over his murky eyes.

he is blind to all else.
his irises turning to curdled milk to everything.

everything.
everything but the words he wished to forget.

in slumber, his fingers awoke
to draw out the world he always missed
and never knew.

the tingling tips thought to paint mountains,
the highest tops of the sun kissed earth.
full of hope that one day he would reach them
and grip the hand of God, they worked.

but when the sun rose up
and kissed the earth once more,
the maps he found were of places long gone,
polaroids of an imagined memory.

he clutched his head and sobbed,
but he would never remember

[until he was crushed by forgiveness,
God's hand on his chest -

and then all he wanted
was to forget.].