Angels strip you

They take everything

Japanese women in white

Covering their mouths

Giggling as they pull

Off your clothes


The door’s just big enough

To crawl through

More of a tunnel really


On the other side

There’s a throne

Gold vaguely translucent

And she’s sitting on it

Legs crossed


It’s the kind of a room

A throne would be in

The light diffuse

Through stained glass


On your knees

You confess everything

Every sin

Every desire

Every regret


She uncrosses her legs

You enter her

And you

Are reborn


About ubu507

memory documentation and manipulation
This entry was posted in Poetry, The Sacred, Woman. Bookmark the permalink.

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