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Records of the soul: that is erotic —
between rapture we all keep fucking up

(all these bodily fluids) Be vulvic/
phallic/ the space between: cork-screw, scallop,

fingers in the deep dark. When the dead cheat
on you do you cheat back? The dead don’t care

and so you write about faith and deceit
which is piety, but nothing like prayer.

Faith means that you’ll put up with anything
just to be heard. Prayer touches, that’s what matters.

You are beloved and you are everything.
You’re god-talk. Erotica. The answers.

For them: procreation is the sinkhole.
For the rest of us: rapture is our soul.