Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2023
I take Eli by the hand and lead him toward the tattered door. “No one’s around. Let’s go in.” The thrill. Was it? Empty pews and stained glass glow. Past the alter to a secret corridor. The shallow pool. To lay our bodies. Disrobed and divine. Baptism. Was it? His pinkening cheeks. The shrill of a trapped bird on the sill. Or was that the sound of our release? A sticky truth in the holy halls. We rest. And breathe. Rinse it all down the drain. Salvation. Was it?
sofolo
Written by
sofolo  M/nashville, tn
(M/nashville, tn)   
71
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems