"your body is a temple" they told you
so two or three times a day
you exorcise yourself,
clutching cylinder bible
pages as you cower in front
of glossy white altars, worship a goddess
you know offers no salvation.
you beg, absolve me.
but even an eternity of trembling
fingers and ripped-raw throats
can forgive you the demons you let possess you,
no matter how many times
choked veneration and kneejerk tears
spilling to join the others.