A chanting him.
The underlying rhythm.
Behold, the altar.
Crisp and white.
Softened by the candlelight.
Enter in a man in violet.
And there, beneath the altar bright
another victim kneels in fright.
The scripture read.
The words are bled away.
He lays with them in Christian sin.
Even as he rapes them with his eyes.
Tending to the powers of copulation.
There, in sin, inside his mother church.
Feeling all the worth of satiation.
Bringing yet more money in.
The altar boys still quake within
the evil of his spell.
The bells ring out.
A silence falls.
Mea Copa. Go in peace.
And never sin again...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .