A New Religion - Carrie Elizabeth Penrod

She called me holy

so I tattooed stigmata


on my flesh, blue like her

eyes, created a new religion


between my thighs. It spoke

of love in the strangest ways


forgiving, cresting over our

hips to teach us ways of being


in a religion made of returning

pleasure. How soft then the dawn


that breaks from our chests,

envelops our bodies in waves


of please and thank you and again

if you must, if you can, if you want


and need in the form of reckless

abandon. A new religion born


of loving unashamed of our

own selves, of our own giving.


My voice was gospel

and I moaned hymns


to the cathedrals of our

hearts. My fingers painted


the first supper on her lips,

wine-stained tender.


She called me holy,

and I answered her prayer.

Carrie Elizabeth Penrod is a current graduate student at Mississippi University for Women. She lives in Indiana with her hoard of cats. Her poetry has been featured in Prometheus Dreaming, on Button Poetry's Instagram, and on corn stalks.

165 views

Recent Posts

See All