Friday, December 21, 2007


Slipping through the sanctuary,
skirts swish, unnoticed she eyes
saints too engrossed with pious prayers
to see carnal cravings coloring the brow
of recent recruit of seminary school,
a simple fool with Irish brogue in royal robe,
preaches and beseeches an apathetic heaven to hear,
for the people to fear for little do they know
temptation is near.
And as he stutters stumbles and stares,
she smiles,
esoteric, erotic, aware.
Now sitting silent in vacant nave-
just her, God and him,
“Forgive me father, for I have sinned,”
and on bloodied knees she pretends to plead
“Bless me, undress me,
grant me sight this holy night.”
As candles flicker and moonlight glows
sharp gray rays on ancient stone
“Come my child, thou art not alone,”
He takes her hand, and leads her
towards the promised land,
while eyes of saints look away,
too preoccupied to see
sacred sanctuary of iniquity
crumble and corrode,
as those who sought to control
relinquish power
this blessed hour
when Woman stole
it back.

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