It is the winter of 2021
and still the first year A.D.
those initials meaning something only to me
In this place was once worshiped
the goddess and her priest in pagan ritual
devoted to her pleasures
The priest now waits with the hands
of the supplicant spread wide waiting to heal
offering nothing but his devotions
Blessings and benedictions given
in the passion of flesh incarnate with lustful
inebriation of the spirit
Phrase whispered in three word prayer
shining in eyes of mirrored soul
beatitude of ancient lore
Mouths and hands in unison’s breath
quiet defiance for a softened moment
delicate violence of desire
It is the winter of 2021
and still the first year A.D.
those initials meaning something only to me
The priest sits unholy in sullen repose
a portrait of austere solemnity
candle lit in invocation
The priest prays still to the goddess
the offering in the window forlorn alms
for the return of the divine
