Florida Water on the Altar

Her body is not temple, mosque, synagogue

holy hellfire chiseled from limestone

devotion seeping from fingertips

yet I worship all the same

Kissing breast, bone and belly button

swallowing the Eucharist whole

like Charon’s gold coin under tongue

yet I worship all the same

Lining artifacts along the altar of her spine

atheist heart howling and hungry

spitting rock chips from my lips

yet I worship all the same

How painful was it, my love?

searching for your missing rib

sculpting feminine flesh from dirt and ash

and still, I worship all the same

Entwined in hallowed sheets

face to face with sublimity itself, she says

“I have never been touched like this before”

and so, I worship the only way I know how