I kept the ledger in my bloodstream.
Every slight etched itself in calcium,
a rosary of hairline fractures
clicking when the weather changed.
Lady Justice is not blind tonightβ
she peels back her bandage with wet fingers,
tilts my chin like she might kiss me,
then measures the tremor in my throat.
Soil is greedy for confession.
Roots curl around ankles without preference.
The scales remember on their own.
The sword hums like summer power lines
waiting for a storm to choose a tree.
I watched as consequence ripenedβ
fat, bruised fruit splitting on the branch.
Their names fell out of their own mouths,
heavy as coins in a drowning pocket.
Some punishments arrive soft as rot.
Some arrive with sirens and bright teeth.
Either way, the balance rights itselfβ
One day the door will not close right.
One day the mirror will not forgive.
The weight they placed on my chest
will settle cleanly into their own palms.
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Pretty words for ugly things.
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