Adoration (Poetry)

I am the ever-hopeful pilgrim
coming back to worship at your tomb —
I settle in the glow of once
knowing you — a brief ecstatic touch
that left its mark on me —
a scar I treasure — vivid — it lights up the room
of memory that has become my love’s safe home.

I bring a cup of adoration — brimming
full of thoughts too liquid to express out loud
I pour them over stone and watch
as their stain dries like blood-spill on the ground
where flowers grow — white-headed and devout.

Night falls on us — its manna virgin-crisp
demanding all my vows hold nun-ish over flesh
inviolate — the dream-flow of my trailing dress
denies its hem might twitch to tempt your longed-for fingers.

If I could love you in the grave — do not doubt I would
claw back the earth and cradle in your bones...

I’ve waited in the dark so long to see a vision — some small sign
you know I’m here and praying at your feet —
Do you remember me? — Magdalene — your servant emptying
the passion from my scarlet woman’s heart.