Reign VII

The shame was never in going naked,
In stalking the streets like an animal
Seeking shelter in all the right places
(Bumping bars, smoky backyards, cannibal
Churches where blood is drunk and flesh consumed,
Where eager adherents display their sins
In holy communion in darkened rooms.)
The shame was in shedding animal skin,
In trading butterfly for chrysalis,
Chrysalis for worm, in sitting up and
Begging greedy con men to christen us,
In learning to eat from a begloved hand.
Finally, it wasn’t in being turned;
Only in blindly insisting you weren’t

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