I don't come holding a silver plate
piled high with off-white sin.
I want no incense or collared priest
to absolve or sentence me.
I am not penitent. I am pensive.
Webbed consciousness shivers as
I grasp amnesia's knot. Veins
swell. My vision rocks. I seek
dialogue, discourse with selves:
demons, saints, angels, whores.
Eucharistic parts suffocate,
fearing judgment, punishment.
Only blank pages, opened mouths
offer needed sanctuary, not
dark secrets in a Confessional.
I want no absolution in a dusty booth.
I taste the ecstasy of the vernacular Host.
These words are my communion.
Ella McCrystle's Home Page.
Poems have appeared in MiPoesias, Snow Monkey, Wicked Alice, Citizen32, Ligature, The Erotica Readers & Writers Association, Quintessence Magazine, MiPo~Print, SpaceBreather, Ink [Magazine], The TMP Irregular, Writer's Hood, Epiphany Magazine, Survivor Wit, Literati Review, Qui ...