Today I ate a biscuit
It tasted like freedom
With an aftertaste of worry, guilt
Immoral to dip my washed, contaminated fingers
Into a shared tupperware pot
Clean it, wash it, hide it
Don’t touch, don’t eat, please don’t
For I have sinned
And given in
And the consequence is
Not a moment on the hips, lips, arteries
But your health because I
Dirty, tainted, unclean
Came into your house and took from your box and the sanctum is split, burst, ruined
Anxious Poems 