Poetry

Transgressions of Benediction

Linger
here.
Breathe that heavy air
ripe,
humid with rites of spring.

Consume this confession,
sweet, juice-
plump meat,
pierce and tear the delicate skin.
Inside? Lush, seeded sins.

Consecrate-
no, anoint-
no baptize this sinner –
on these knees,
open jawed vessel, waiting.

Drip on blooded flesh
holy water, slippery slick
Proffer the offering
golden altar spread
a tithe of fruited flesh.

Kneel, once more.
Fingers on beads of sin, rosary of
lust; whispered prayer.
“use me as you will…”
ite missa est.

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