i have poetry written between my thighs,
the way lilted words are written on manuscripts,
relics discovered in an ancient church.
an overgrown holy ground,
i can hear the breathy hymns escape
when i nick my own skin.
what lonely devouts worshipped here?
laying venerating kisses on the crossing of my legs,
placing flowers at the taut base of my neck,
bowing before the altar of my breast?
let me arise on my own altar:
wrapping myself in smoky incense and
as baptismal sweat glistens crystalline
from the effort.
Ehlayna Napolitano is a writer and editor, based in Providence, Rhode Island. She currently freelances as a copy editor and reporter, and has forthcoming work in Moonchild Magazine and The Long Island Literary Journal. She tweets @ehlaynanaps and writes at scarletepithets.tumblr.com.