Ritual
And so he
prays behind me,
Completely bare,
naked,
In his purest
form
A statue of
vulnerability.
His skin itself
a prayer
His body the
body of god.
Elevated by
the vermillion
And the
nutmeg nuts
Painted with
grains of rice.
Each one of
them a planet
Orbiting his
body, his nakedness
The center
of a humble husk
Of bone and
blood, his hair
Curling outward,
a universe
In each inky
strand.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment