the hypocrites and heretics
There is a sadness
Amongst the holy
When a church burns
As if Jesus died
A martyr to the flames
Do they know how
Unholy women burned
At the stake
Tied to the wooden phallus
Of God’s right hand
Fucked by the light
the goddess you summoned
He likes me like a satanic ritual
All bloody virginal
Playing crimson tic-tac-toe
With the black magic in me
He wants me like an altar statue
A figure of godly inspiration
Belly like a jug of blessed water
Collecting dust offerings on
Scales of justice like mermaid skin
He sees me as a beacon of lunar lady
Pale and silver submissive to his sun
A shadow of golden ribbons on promised waters
But he doesn’t know I rule the high seas
Every ocean obeys my sweeping glance
I am not a pretty thing
Not a fireplace mantle fixture
Never a muse perched on rock shoulder
I am a painter of his immaculate conception
And in my wrath
I will burn the canvas
turkish delight
there is a
forgotten piece
of fuzz between
your tattooed fingers
from my sweaters
sweated off
in the heat of
christ’s dying light
in the tomb of winter basement
there is a hill and valley
of my teeth molded on your shoulder
i took a bite to remember you
and keep you
in between the wetness of my lips
like turkish delight
glossed in sweet transgression
to rot what’s left of you
Jenna Velez is a queer poet of color from suburban Philadelphia. Her work has been featured or forthcoming in over a dozen literary spaces. She is currently running “The Northern Bruja’s Grimoire” column at Pussy Magic Press and “By Death, She Lives” blog at Rhythm & Bones Press. She tweets @northernbruja and can be found at jennavelez.weebly.com.
Royal Rose 