Sunday Mass

My body

is a stained glass window

and your fingerprints

are still where you

last touched me.

 

My lungs

still hold your last breath;

my lips,

your casket.

 

My heart is a candle lit flame

in your loving memory.

It is a tabernacle

that holds the presence

of my soul, The Lord.

 

My thighs

are the double door

opening to the temple,

decorated with my own

holy scripture.

 

You are the repenting sinner

welcomed into the house

of The Lord, where I pray

you may be saved

 

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