Faith
Faith
I should know by now,
promises pressed against bed sheets
are not covenants.
No communion rests on your tongue.
No witness or signature
binds you to me.
Righteous eyes peer through generations,
fixate on
melded flesh and broken resolve.
Somewhere between my past and now
a sermon delivers itself to my conscience.
It falls on deaf ears.
It's been too long since my last confession.
I'm probably channeling cinderella again,
but tonight,
I'm eating this moment with sharpened teeth
and breathing with borrowed breath
and living a lifetime
tethered to you,
burrowed inside me.
Summoned by prayer or seance
you appear in my bed,
whisper promises to my thighs,
and I believe you.
Mary
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Faith
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