This is the first poem I have written in a while, so be gentle.
She closes her eyes, feeling the cold stone beneath her feet, the air kissing her ankles as she leans against the altar rail, knees
into the hard wood. The wood is worn
from the knees that came before. She
crushes her body against the altar rail, pinning her arms
so the wood stamps into her arms. Her body hangs there heavily as her breathing
her breathing becomes more shallow. Her lips part as she tries to speak, but she begins to cry,
her body held up by that altar, arms aching as the wood stamps deeper.
Tears break against the altar.
I watch, head bare. I watch,
and I move to the altar, settling
in front of the woman. My hands, cool like the stone
flutter against her skin, against her hair hanging over her eyes. She opens
her eyes to look at me, but she can't see
through the tears.
is between us. I reach over, palm holding back her hair
and I kiss her,
Her tears slid down my face,
over my lips,
and I held her up as she sobbed against the altar.