Black and white judgment, cherry colored lips and creme colored eyes. I saw you bathing. I didn’t mean to. The door was open a crack. I was so young, I didn’t fully understand why I was frozen on the spot.
Habits pulled tight against the driving rain. A world where the nuns stood in closed circles, their hands wrapped around the glowing, almost living embers of their cigarettes. Protected from the water. From the skyward vengeance, no irony felt at all in any part of it. Dignity, among all things, maintained.
Bruised knuckles were my badge of honor. Arguments heard from three doors down. Dare me to question the one thing you won’t allow anyone to question. Dare. Deny all things, young man, but do not deny the truth of the Holy Spirit. Do not ask me why!
The water, so unlike the rain all over your black and white, this time with a purpose, almost a mind of it’s own. It forms a train, a pattern of clean skin between your shoulder blades, your *******. I knew that those things were there. I’m sure I did. So tell me, why am I so surprised to see them?