Spy Wednesday

It would have been better
had he not been born.
Jesus’ condemnation
at the betrayal by a friend.

I can see him,
a shadow laden figure.
Face turned,
lips puckered,
the knowing eye.

The face morphs
from olive skin.
Pigment pales
as it becomes my own
staring back at me.

Lord, forgive my own betrayal
more frequent
and cheaper, than his.

SJMC+
(Written: 12.IV.17)

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