Treason

I carry the weight of our sins for the both of us;
bolted, shackled, awaiting Peter at the gate. But
what ever happened to your conscience, dear?
Did you lose it in between the spaces of lust and
hate that slipped between these lines of fate,
falling softly, disguised as love but not once
mimicking her tired efforts. This offense of
hastes is the fault of both, and this love has
always been treasonous.

Photograph by @valeriya