RachelMallino

He hovers above my face, knee-bent;
I imagine the son of God: maple locks
brush cheek-bones as his eyes position
my chin downward like a miracle. His hands
nailed firmly to the head-board. I never believed
in prayer or faithful offerings, but today
I open wide and take in the body of Christ.

A tendency to talk excessively or unwisely.

And when I am full with you, don’t dare
call me by any other name
than the one with which I
was born – Leah’s sister, Jacob’s
fruitful womb: Rachel.

~

Confessional

adj. Of, relating to, or resembling confession.

In academia, they say it’s out

like big hair and bumper stickers -

no room for words that prick

like thorns deep in the thicket.

n. A small enclosed stall in which a priest hears confessions.

Father, when I was ten I heard my mother moan

the names of fifteen men, two feet from my ear-drum.

I wrote a poem about it

but apparently, no one wants to read it.

Today, I tore the last ten pages from the Bible,

folded them neatly into squares and mailed them off

to every publisher who rejected me. If they hear the blare

of trumpets too early, is it my fault?

Bio: Rachel Mallino is a young writer living in South Florida. She has a penchant for seedy bars and playing pool, poorly. When Rachel isn't writing poetry, she takes on the role of editor for a small online literary journal called Tilt.

email: fadingfast000@yahoo.com

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