Magdalene enters
the confessional...
the church has few people
either kneeling or sitting...
high windows coloured glass
and a statue of the ****** Mary
by the door...
she closes the door
behind her and kneels...
darkness and smell
of mothballs and peppermints...
a small door is pushed open
in front of the grid
and a shadowy figure
of Father Joseph
appears before her...
bless me Father
for I have sinned
and it has been
(she searches for the last time
she attended confessions)
some weeks since
my last confession
(had it been this priest
or another? she muses)
and I accuse myself
of the following sins...
the priest fidgets
in his seat
and scratches his nose...
she whispers a list
of sins and pauses
and watches his reactions if any...
he waits and coughs and fidgets
and lowers his head a little...
and I have this feeling
these feelings for someone...
the priest looks toward the grid
and sees only her outline...
yes my child? he whispers
leaning closer to the grid...
shall I say about it?
she muses to herself
seeing the priest's nose
against the grid...
feelings inside...
what feelings child?
he asks leaning back a little...
feelings for a girl she whispers
looking at her hands joined
in the semi-dark and sensing
an ache in her knees...
what kind of feelings?
he says hesitantly
his eyes peering at the grid...
I love her and want to kiss her
and hold her and she stops
and stares at the shadowy priest
before her...
he frowns and breathes in deeply
and says a girl?
feelings for a girl?...
she nods and sees
his shadowy figure
gaze at her through the grid
as if he were trying to fathom
who she was...
was it true she asks herself
about him and the nun Sister Lucy?
was what Mary said true?..
for these sins and all those
that I cannot remember
I humbly repent and ask
for absolution and counsel
and penance she mutters
repeating the words by rote...
do you repent?
he says stiffly to her...
she looks at the dim outline
of her knees and she puts
her hands on them
stroking them
wishing they were
Mary's knees there...
do you?
he repeats softer now
and eyeing her outline
wanting to know
who she was...
I want to touch her knees
she whispers
her voice hanging
in the stale air
and she thinking
she shouldn't be there.
Jan 18, 2016
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:44 PM UTC
Magdalene enters
the confessional...
the church has few people
either kneeling or sitting...
high windows coloured glass
and a statue of the ****** Mary
by the door...
she closes the door
behind her and kneels...
darkness and smell
of mothballs and peppermints...
a small door is pushed open
in front of the grid
and a shadowy figure
of Father Joseph
appears before her...
bless me Father
for I have sinned
and it has been
(she searches for the last time
she attended confessions)
some weeks since
my last confession
(had it been this priest
or another? she muses)
and I accuse myself
of the following sins...
the priest fidgets
in his seat
and scratches his nose...
she whispers a list
of sins and pauses
and watches his reactions if any...
he waits and coughs and fidgets
and lowers his head a little...
and I have this feeling
these feelings for someone...
the priest looks toward the grid
and sees only her outline...
yes my child? he whispers
leaning closer to the grid...
shall I say about it?
she muses to herself
seeing the priest's nose
against the grid...
feelings inside...
what feelings child?
he asks leaning back a little...
feelings for a girl she whispers
looking at her hands joined
in the semi-dark and sensing
an ache in her knees...
what kind of feelings?
he says hesitantly
his eyes peering at the grid...
I love her and want to kiss her
and hold her and she stops
and stares at the shadowy priest
before her...
he frowns and breathes in deeply
and says a girl?
feelings for a girl?...
she nods and sees
his shadowy figure
gaze at her through the grid
as if he were trying to fathom
who she was...
was it true she asks herself
about him and the nun Sister Lucy?
was what Mary said true?..
for these sins and all those
that I cannot remember
I humbly repent and ask
for absolution and counsel
and penance she mutters
repeating the words by rote...
do you repent?
he says stiffly to her...
she looks at the dim outline
of her knees and she puts
her hands on them
stroking them
wishing they were
Mary's knees there...
do you?
he repeats softer now
and eyeing her outline
wanting to know
who she was...
I want to touch her knees
she whispers
her voice hanging
in the stale air
and she thinking
she shouldn't be there.
A 14 YEAR OLD GIRL CONFESSES TO A PRIEST IN TIPPERARY IN IRELAND IN 1963.
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