Neophyte
What can I say the pot plants in the yard are fed tiny rain
drops
saintly tears of a girl rejected by the abbess to join the order
because she detect a wild sensual abandonment behind eyes
that,
at first glance, are mirrors
of chastity.
The abbess knows the young girl is not seeking god rather
she seeks
shelter from the raving craving of her body, the relentless
dreams
so alive she feels
the weight of her fantasy lover´s alabaster body,
a young priest at the local church.
Sacrifices, in god´s
name is always demanded by religious orders,
and mother superior has a quota to fill, but she is not
looking for
troubles She needs compliant novices, Indian girls from the
slum
who will forever thank god for escaping Calcutta´s poverty.
They
will be slaves of Jesus and married to him, clean his
underwear
endure ignominy for three square meals and a bunk bed to
sleep in.
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