POEM 354: VANITY

the most impious of thoughts flooded my mind 
as I bowed the head to pray for you and I

blame the chilly harmattan breeze
that through my window panes, sneaked in

when i made to say the grace
the words below was what I said:

strike me as you would a match,
against the surfaces of your supple skin

strike me, please, not once, 
but many times, until we catch fire

when I was done, with my refrain
I swear I heard heaven chorus 'amen'

the most impious of thoughts flooded my mind 
as I bowed the head to pray for you and I

I feel holy still
because 'tis natural this vanity, to crave



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