temple

the pastor says

we are having church

and I begin to wonder what it means to

possess a thing you cannot touch

I caught the holy ghost once

after chasing him in the back pews

held onto him long enough to convince my mother of salvation

then went home and set him free in the wild

how pompous of man to

think himself temple

don’t you know I have called out to God

in emptier structures?

the doors of the church are open

come, sit

lay your burdens at the altar

eat the body and its crumbs, sip the blood

until you are satisfied

I am unlearning how to erect myself

as a stained-glass home

this pipe-organ heart is guilty of calling out to the godless

especially men who peek during prayer

Notes:

This poem appears in Smoke by Ashlee Haze (Amazon Publishing, 2020).

Source: Poetry (May 2021)