most of the angels avert their gaze
a few stare, their glares embedded
in my bare chest and just one
watches quietly from the corner

what would Judas think about
the scarves? one wrapped around
my wrists and the other around
my eyes with my teeth clenched

my back is arched above the
towel you put on your sheets just
in case. did jesus ever think about
his safeword as he hung on the cross?

‘Do you like that?’ whispers Pontius Pilate
gasping I respond, ‘Yes sir,’