this is my body, my Christ body.
holy are my valleys,
my rivers and my mountains.
God’s breath holds my dust together.
His body, my body
His blood, my blood.
our rumbling wine-sick belly,
pouring over my jeans
my soft, swelling thighs,
my too-round cheeks;
a divine echo I’ve left to starve.
sacrilege embodied
wanting to perfect the
unblemished, the immaculate
the holy and beautiful desecrated
on the backs of earthly desires
as the sun goes round once again.
a vow to the self,
to the holy reflection,
flesh held sacred,
fed good fruits,
living waters and sunlight.
this is God incarnate,
and I am not to harm.