She Refuses to be Good
She refuses to be good, takes tea instead with a heavily tanned man who does not know Plato but is living proof of Darwin-- all experiments are conducted in enclosed spaces, all human beings take off their masks and an animal voice replaces the low hushed timbre of polite conversation. She refuses to be good even as she sings to God. Disrespectful of the ‘home’ of skin, she resurrects instead the ‘throne’ to skin and finds grace in the curve of her neck, the flex of a toe, erasing from memory the past for what she now knows. * I know God has seen the skin stretched taunt over the head of an erect cock. I know God has smelled the scent of a cunt in first flush, and painted its roseate color in the evening sky. I know God gave us language and bid us well, but if pleasure connotes sin perhaps we all need to start again. She refuse to be told what satiates skin is the subversion of soul. © Coleen T. Houlihan First published in Clean Sheets. |