The Penitent

DNA drapes its glucose flesh

across a sour phosphate spine. Tonight,

a waxing crescent creates another forest

from the conifers’ own shadows. So it is


that the spirits spawn a second you


from overworked candles. We all bow

with more confessions than beads

as leopard print camouflages your computer-

white hands from our frosty realm. That light


has always been a chain. Actually, you

would claim, it’s a lot more like a tether–at best,

a hide to warm your jilted skull–


at worst, a leash. Eyes snap shut

during service like jaws snatching

lambs. Psalms are painted

on authority-colored eyelids.


These arching figures murmur hymns

that crunch through fanged robes like sugar

beneath a panicked boot.


Your gloves never stop purring

against your forehead.

Pray tell.


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Hello, fellow bundle of nerves and flesh! I'm a simple little being who's half-poet, half-scientist, and all gelatinous chaos. Sort of like an illogical marshmallow. If you'd like to learn more, please seek out the "First Impressions" page. Thank you for the visit, bundle friend.

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