HOLY SIN
what deity do i again bow before
when your ample bosoms are altars?
if this sincerity‒gushing
from your innocent eyes like light
from an adolescent moon‒isn’t
a sanctuary, then what is?
my father asserts: even if one tithes all his
vocabularies to Apollo to ransom
himself from the sawed jaws of oblivion,
there’s but one way to eternity: a woman’s thighs
he believes we’re but lines in stanzas
cobbled in an epic with that holy sin
god bribed Eden with, then‒turning, in a wink,
a bethel into a brothel‒ to save his expendable breath.
About the Poet
MK Kuol is a South-Sudanese poet based in Juba. A partial surrealist, with a counterbalanced zeal for didacticism and aestheticism, with a literary award to his name and high acclaim from most who have read him.
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