slithering like a serpent among the pews
calling you to dance
music runs slow over your breasts
pull, breathe, push down
knees drawn closer tighter
serpent swirls in a cloud,
like bitter perfume
scented from the dead
music raises ghosts
passions that you lost when you slept
there is no man Jesus here
only the serpent, and you.
I wrote this because not of the actual prompt at dversepoets.com tonight, which is'”taboo” but I was reading a poem by claudia schoenfeld and I was going to reply how sensuous her poem was and the line, slithering like a serpent among the pews came to mind and would not let go,
I love Jesus, but the line kept twisting and the result is what you have above.
This will hopefully be my only “bio” to any poem I write. I like to leave that to your own imaginings.