Hell In a Handmaiden Basket
He hath become religious of late
prostrated before the virgin Mary
Cornflower blues blown to wild violets
and thin lines puckering in concentration
Prayers spilling in loud sputters from his mouth
She hath listened a time or two
to testimonies led by callused hands
Run lukewarm holy water upon him
Coaxing gentle promises from cold maidens
candlelight vigils by the goose feather altar
Ordered 10 Hail Marys, and 5 Our fathers
and she bled for both of their sins
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