In the cathedral my eyes dart back and
forth; tracing pitchers of holy water,
stepping up to the altar with exorcism
on my mind. my body is a rapture, now,
and i see clearly through stained glass
windows depicting gods and devils- i
am dazed by the light shining through,
and evil dribbles out of my mouth even
as i spread my arms as if to embrace
the execution, as if there was a shred
of compassion left in me; but the truth
is, that the vehemence i had escaped
when they baptized me. in the cathedral
i lay now, drowning in lilies and the
whispers of prayers; holy water doused,
the coolness of what once burned now
soothes the skin but their hymns don't
strike my heart- my soul- anything.
these curves, these bare feet and open
palms are a rapture, but my eyes fly
wide open when they speak in sync to a
lord i have never accepted; their lips
parted, faces contorted, mine drifting
from person to person to find one that
doesn't have a cross strapped to their
skull.. but instead i find Lilith in me,
sultry tone striking harpsichords in my
spine. in this cathedral i haunt, there
are no priests, only figureheads and
lost children, crawling on their bellies
towards the front with eyes pitch black
to the iris and screams resonating an
amen that i cannot hear- there are no
sermons, but only chilling crescendos
of voices all in unison praying to the
same son with barren faith; i have made
the choice to accept they cannot find
any other path- my rapture is silenced
by the loyal, and i step down from in
front of the cross, never bearing it
as my own; i transcend the pews, and i
seek solace in the new found thoughts
playing through my mind, in her voice.
pleading, they beg me to return but i've
long since stopped hearing their talk
of fish and blood, and ignored what i
was supposed to learn of genesis; but
i do not feel empty. i feel full, with
my hair drenched in their alcohol, a
rhythm in my chest as i continue past
them where they stop in front of gold
gates, and step off into the unknown.
i feel full without this cathedral.
