Holy

Holy

I have a holy book
I know as well as my poverty.
I recite scriptures
to keep temptations
away.

But her hair
is a bell of sweet herbs
as she passes me.
Her nipples nod
as if we're old friends,

and my heart jumps the way a deer
leaps over a neighbor's shrub,
without effort.

That
is why I'm applying for a job,
shedding my past as easily
as my robe, my beads
clattering to the floor.

Her cleavage is like a trail
down a canyon. There are many paths

to enlightenment.