when a slave sins

isn't this what gags are for?
to silence outbursts from minds without impulse control
what bondage stifles
and discipline rings-out from habit

the ego too
how many times must i learn
to keep the long and windy neck of my inner striving beak
those fingertips of more
expressing the pit of desires
like peeping birds from days of hunger
quiet in their darkness

how ive tried to thwart them
but when asked to speak
my breath is clear
till there's silence
and the tsunami of shame
descends
gripping tightly
in that tender place
where kneeling was born