There is a fierce altar
not far away
or hard to find
but frightening in its simple design,
its stark demands.
That which you hold dear.
The deep mutton of your beliefs,
drag these live and kicking beasts
or old carcasses,
feel the weight of resistance in your body,
your tears that fall or refuse to,
the secret dreams you would die without
– feel the texture of each offering,
the softness of the silks you have spun,
the jagged rocks of pain,
the breathing, tender, live beings in your care.
Loves and compulsions,
fears and steady joys;
empty your pockets
then take off your pants
– the altar has room
for a naked you.