first communion
lips blue and bitten
Father A holding my hand
my wedding dress around my eight years
paled and sacrificed
The lion holding my hand
the true salvation in my palm
are you happy hanging on your cross?
does the metal plate keep you from falling?
the red of the altar
the red of his robe
the red of his blood
now
in the mouth of the eight year old brides
no longer white
through the coloured glass
my rainbow halo
put all my sins on display
is that why the mothers are crying?
the tiny silver saviour
pushed against our mouths and lips
before entering the circle
like the bull
we never stood a chance
Poetry by Lourdes
Read 1334 times
Written on 2006-05-14 at 14:33
Tags Communion 
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