Saturday, September 15, 2012

My Religious Poem (3)


Writing at my desk my eyes caress

two mouth-red rosellas

bouncing between the limbs of a tree

which is naked but for the buds they

tongue and pluck,

buds as plump pink and full of promise as

pubescent nipples;

and I think 

‘is that creepy?’

I am usually a good judge of these things.

this is my conviction poem

this has to be my conviction poem

but the only thing I know for sure is

this is where I am meant to be, right now,

with you

this is my religious poem

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