"No fault!" the hexagram proclaimed.
But I knew it only applied
to madmen or believers,
not simple fools.
I pay a nightly stipend
to be absolved of memory,
though never get good value.
The sins remain as if
diffidence sealed them within
my dark, cold, unforgiven soul.
This is observation, not confession.
I am not an empty man,
just one who cannot get his fill.
I am careful at intersections,
pay heed to most signs,
never wake alone.
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