Monk in Your Bedroom

By: Gus Victoria

He wears no cowl

Nor a tonsure,

Yet he prays

As fervently as they

In the chapel,

Though he

Recites his words

In your bed,

The temple is before him,

Adoration in his heart,

It races at your touch,

Simple, deep joy

In that careless touch,

Released in a sigh,

Anxiety and insecurity

Plague the goddess

As in her beauty he basks,

She pushes the supplicant aside,

She banishes him

From her presence,

Through her tears

She banishes him,

Confused he leaves,

Hurt he turns,

The monk in your bedroom,

Soon the memory you regret.