Erasing the stain purity culture left behind is helping mental health. Choosing to be human and love the functions of our body — is natural medicine.
I hope my sex poetry helps those the church hurt too. Because in my world, consent and personal choice is the kingdom of god.
If my body is a temple,
why can’t my breast
be the stained glass?
And why can’t
lingerie
be the invitation
to proceed
—> F O R W A R D.
Why can’t bent knees
open like dividing
two steeples?
I could pray
before feasting?
I could pray
before devouring
the flesh of a god.
If my body is a temple,
who is this man knocking at my heart?
Saying he is god over me and my dominion?
If my body is a temple,
why can I not advertise
— a good time?
If my body is a temple,
can I offer my own self
absolution?
If my body is a temple,
can I worship in the bedroom?
If my body is a temple —
why are they wrapping me up
in linen touching my ankles?
I wish to show off the curves
of my stone hedges.
Afterall,
My body is a temple.
They yell at me
that my body is a temple;
and then they tell me to worship
some other god?
And he says I am a child?
Children do not look like this.
And he said I am a package —
implying that he knows my temples objective.
He says body is a present.
And what’s the point
if I am already ripped open?
No, sir.
My body is my temple.
He says my vagina is a delicate rose,
And what if someone took
the last of my petals?
No, sir.
My vagina is everlasting garden;
A new flower birthed
During every orgasm.
If my body is a piece of tape,
I’d be made from the hands of man.
No, sir.
My body is a temple,
Hand crafted by Artemis.
When the pastor says
“purity equals virginity.”
I must stand up to say,
“Is it all about the first time?”
“Or is that some fetish
at the church services
only some attend, sir.”
My body is a temple.
And the lord told me;
To
Worship
In
The
Bedroom.
My body is a temple,
Tell them you heard it
Here.
My body is a temple,
and I’ll honor it as such.
So — go away now,
Please stop knocking.
My body is a temple,
And I own it.