Drink up
this sacrament

For the mysteries do
not pass
on your tongue

But offered as the
three phases
of woman

And the liars
You'd know them from
how they belittle us
the men with
envious ticks

Divinity ran rancid
in their mouths
Traitors to our souls

Now it's up to you
woman reclaim what
is proper and leave the phallus
where it belongs...
Far away from pedestals