Monday, July 31, 2017

Mixed Metaphors

Sorry my loves, that I have been gone for so long. I'm going to try to go back to twice a week, although expect more irregular updates due to spending long periods of time in a park.


She tells me she "treats her body like a temple" and I know
What she intends to say. She means to say
Her body is exclusive. Not just anyone can wander in.
She’s a peaceful mountain retreat and the snow falling
Leaves her body a blank and barren landscape.
On the most worthy of intrepid hikers are allowed a glance
At her holy spaces.

I agree; "my body is a temple too." But I mean
That to me my body is a holy space
Pleasure is my worship and anyone of pure
Intention is welcome.
I tend my body through worship
Soft hands polishing spires
Candles sending gentle aromas and curling smoke to the domed ceilings
I plant flowers every spring and place plush cushions on the many pews.
I would be only too happy
To offer any pilgrim who kneels before me
A temporary salvation.

My body is a temple and it cannot be made less holy.
No matter how many times
The grand doors swing open to admit a new spiritual quest seeker.
My body is a spiritual experience
No matter the atheist or evil-doer inside
I clean the stained glass windows carefully every day. Bad intention
Will not tarnish them.

My body is holy because my legs can run half a marathon
My body is holy because my mouth can taste the sweetness of chocolate
My body is holy because my arms can lift and my lungs can breathe and my heart can beat
I mean literally beat,
With all the violence and rhythm and anguish and joy and abandon the word implies.
My body is holy because my uterus demands blood and suffering
But my body is holy because my vulva gifts the most exquisite joy.

My body is not a temple because it feels
To hit me is not to smash a stained glass window.
I will bleed.
My body is not a temple because I live in it.
When hands caress my spires I feel it.
The hands must be welcome hands.
My body is not a temple because temples are not afraid
Temples do not walk down streets at night looking over their shoulder.
My body is not a temple because it lives and breathes and feels and
I will treat my body like it is holy,
But more importantly
I will treat my body like it is mine.

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