"you should fuck me like i'm wearing a confirmation dress", i pause, less
concerned with the moral ramifications and more logistically on how
to fight my way through a sea of white ruffles.
this is my body,
eat of it.
12 apostles, 14 stations of the cross, 13 years of catholic school,
5 of those spent sexting behind Leviticus,
rolling joints out of bible pages,
burning the parts that cross us out.
she says, "fuck me
like you're pulling in fishing nets, you drive me crazy
on your knees."
i say, "my safe word is "apocalypse",
it's not wrong if we say 'we're sorry'"
i don't know my times tables or the difference between "left" and "right"
but i know that they say i will be left if i am not right.
i don't know my social security number but i do know
hailmaryfullof grace thelord is withtheeand blessedarethoseamongwomenandblessedisthe
fruitofthywomb Jesus holymarymotherofgodprayforussinnersnow and untilthehourofourdeath.
you should see the sheets when we're finished, stained and hanging from the window
like a white flag.
Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners
now and until the hour of our death,