Poem: Invited

my good intentions
reach boldly,
a bright white
church steeple
against a
cloudless
periwinkle sky

my feet are
deeply rooted
in the fecund
underworld,
underfoot , always
tripping up
us sinners,
praying
so hard
to conform

my face a
porcelain idol,
reflecting
pure illusion,
blinding you
to stillness

flames below warm
the lonely soles
of your pilgrim's feet

inside you,
at your throat,
behind your eyes,
around your wrists,
against your skin with
savage force

you welcome me

stations of
the cross, I
count up all
the ways you
are my filthy
whore, I give
redemption

delicate rosary
beads, touched
tenderly, I
whisper my
devotion to you,
my angel who
offers salvation
in reckless,
unpredictable
spirals of
frightened
flight

a hunter's blind,
a testament,
an upturned palm,
a lie, a screed,
a stilted, feigned
indifference:
all the ways
I hide my claws
and my incisors

you see through me

raised from
long slumber,
released from
polite society,
my devil is
finally
invited