The Last Confession of Sister Ruth
On top of this mountain, the air is too thin even for God. He can’t see me out of habit,
slinking down the scrabbled path, my prayer lost in the drone and strafe of the high
Himalayas. There’s a man waiting, warm blooded, where the wind is calm. Oh, sisters,
how do you quench the fire, the lava that flows from between your thighs, the constant
reminder of past and present, the vow of untouched future? I am a Bride of Christ, but
this long distance relationship just isn’t working out. What did I think I would find here?
My life’s purpose blowing out of the snowcaps? Maybe the devil found me instead. On
those long, cold nights as the wind moaned desire into my ear, a demon appeared in the
mirror, put ice in my veins and murder in my fingers. No one can stop me now. I’m going
to the village to offer myself as a sacrifice, and if that man sends me back up the
mountain, I’ll just come down again – flying – wearing my forbidden red lipstick as a
Collin Kelley is the author of the poetry collections Better To Travel, Slow To Burn, After the Poison and the American Library Association-honored Render. Sibling Rivalry Press has published his trilogy of novels, Conquering Venus, Remain In Light and Leaving Paris. His poetry, essays and interviews have appeared in journals, magazines and anthologies around the world. www.collinkelley.com
10/21/2016 08:12:42 pm
A decent monologue in the mode of Browning. On reading this poem, I recalled the crazed, selfish nun from Black Narcissus for the first time in over a decade. Nicely written, Mr. Kelley.
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