As I sit on the stiff wooden chair,
my pleaded wool skirt itches my thighs
"Virginity is a gift from god," he says.
He nervously runs his finger between
his neck and collar,tugging it awry.
Here comes another lie.
"You are like a rose" he says.
As I sit I can feel the cool metal of my catholic school pin
Pressing into my breast.
The young priest continues his discussion further.
As I take in a deep breath, the pin stabs me.
As his eyes linger on my thigh,
he says, "Impure thoughts are natural."
More for his own benefit than mine.
He loosens his collar again,
Pulling it way out of line
"You are a treasure waiting to be found," he says.
His eyes linger on my pin.
His breathing becomes labored.
My pin begins to burn.
He quickly sits down behind his desk,
As I rub my aching chest.
He says with conviction,
"You will make a man very happy one day,
But until then we both should pray."
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