Proper Avoidance Theory

The baggage adds heat; sweat birthed from its position
like condensation, rests in quiet circles on my skin--
on my mind, clear blotches of moisture barely recognized
but understood to be moments of great discovery
retreated to memory;
because to exist through them would be like staring at death in everything.

To know, while greeting, that this ritual is no prayer
but an indifferent spell of auto piloted entry.
To admit, while shaking hands, we're designed to smile
while we internally regret, build houses of shame
to retreat to in silence,
using charity as a name tag.