habit of love
Completely covered
Hidden from all except your husband
HIM
I’ve played a nun so many times, the habit stifling in its severity
Heat gathered under layers of unbreathable cotton
Breasts chafing with sweat and course fabric
A sacrifice for the play, the production, so unlike your true losses
Chastity, humility–words I barely accept as authentic
You trust HIM implicity
A faith I never understood, though envied
To me it was hurried memorized phrases
Going through the motions, up, down, cross
What would it be like to feel so utterly loved
Every cell knowing it belonged
Easy to joke about the garb
Perhaps the joke’s on me….
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This poem has inspired me to write about my own experience with religion, faith, always wondering…