POETRY

[C HU R CH]

we submerged ourselves in holy water, drenched with innocence— and i had not yet tasted the euphoria of sin— 

so we thirstily drowned our palates in pellucid purity, certain would someday fly away on lucifer’s wings /

you placed a hand on my untainted heart

w a t  e r  lo  g g ed    l  u n  gs

let me pray at your alter— i will worship you with the fervor of raging hellfire— slaughter every sacrificial lamb to raise to you as ash

and so i let you in my temple and you taught me the language of lust— and i was certain we must be the spawn of satan, of incubus, of succubus— but beneath the tepid shame was the burning desire for more

s k i n   to  sk i  n   t o  sk i  n

do you think we have been exiled from heaven— perhaps, but we will conflagrate with the splendor of a thousand suns

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