Absolution

it's irritating

the way you

sashay through church doors
on sunday mornings

strutting

birks’ haute couture
dresses
and dachet hat
knock-offs

then ceremoniously sit

among
the piously phony

and sing holy
holy holy

suddenly

jump up and wantonly
dance and sway down

consecrated aisles

as if

absolution

can be seduced

satiated

like some saturday night

nameless lover