sin

the slimy moss-covered walls of my insides
are coated and caked in musty orange sin,
and this germy shit-filled Ganges water
will paint my outsides shiny,
awash in a halo glow in lazy red sunlight
cast through the crumbling temples on shore,
and I will be renewed, if I believe,
by this blessed cesspool eddy,
relieved as I turn to face the pilgrims,
sheathed in a drying film

c. 2001, 2008 Evan Gilling

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