abiding

even after the third washing,
my hands still smell of
barbecue sauce.

the irremovable smell and
deep burgundy pollution
stuck under my fingernails

is not at all like original sin.
it's much closer to sweet baby ray's
than anything else.

it is certainly not akin to
anything that brutus
wiped from his hands to his toga.

it is far too savory to be
anything like the lingering,
astringent taste of shame.

no, it is just barbecue sauce.