[I gave myself to Him–]
I thought it something small. Everything was.
Girling from one party to another – I was the prettiest
abbess, my wimple crisply folded, my cocktail habit
vaccinating me against all thought. Amor vincit omnia
engraved the length of my thigh,
my pictures all black-barred.
Yes, I was a yes girl. Yes, I had such fun I can’t
say I remember. But gradually a heresy took hold –
et tu, Brutal, broke across the horizon
like a hand snuffing out the sun.
For all your cruelties, you’re the Him
that I write to, letter after letter, requesting
only that you return me to my prior state.
Have pity on a girl of Catholic tastes.
I want the same as anyone, just more, and faster.
Make nice, make haste, I say, and never yield.