Solitary priests in their black boxes,

raking through sexual secrets

with cast iron rules,

drawing heavy curtains

over humanity’s unmentionable weakness.

To touch my hidden need, constantly

with brutal shame,

exposing it bit by bit

under a merciless searchlight

until I die — that is Hell!

Unfaltering condemnation of my unknown urges

you called pollution.

Naturally,

I did it—

and a million times already!

With souls of Shylock

covetous for Christ,

you counted the flood of my ravishing thoughts

even in the silent night.

But can you expiate the guilt engendered?

Systematically plundered vessels of dreams—

and all the golden girls and boys

left learning to love in their injured ways.

Inherit now their hardened hearts

to the last drop emptied of intimate trust.

I broke your rules—

You broke my Church!

Can we forgive each other?

Perhaps