When I go to Mass
I sit on the side and
near the back so I
can attend the women
I watch them in dresses
lean into their hands as
they stand, their hips
touching the lips of the pews
and when they sit, they rock
ever so subtle, before
they drop onto the hard
walnut surface, smoothing
the soft folds of fabric beneath.
Of course, I pause to take
Communion and walk beside
or behind the women
And I confess I register
no shame or regret.
Bless me father, for
I have not sinned.
This is indeed the image
of God I adore and
my body likewise its
glorious appetite.
