guilty

your finger prints are
everywhere.
on the glass,
the door knob,
her legs
and arms. a loose
a strand of hair
sits upon
your sleeve.
footprints are in
the tangled sheets,
you may have bitten
her neck
at some point,
left teeth marks,
ripped her blouse,
whispered
feelings into her ear.
you're guilty.
guilty. guilty.
but willing to do the time,
if she agrees,
perhaps a long stretch
of happy years.