Oh Mary, My Beloved - A Poem

*A quick, freeform poem on love, queerness, and learning that sometimes the idea of 'sin' is subjective.

Red rosary beads, cold, stagnant

on my bedside table;

Wrapped loosely around the base of a chipped white mug that still holds the stains of my lover’s lips.

Hey Mary, hold me tight

Sordid silks litter the bedroom floor,

unclasped brallettes and single socks lie discarded on the loveseat;

a dinner of dreamy desires forced our departure from the dining table.

Hey Mary, turn out the light

Two toothbrushes sit by the sink,

one black, one pink,

hers and mine, side by side, yet they don’t speak,

Hey Mary, are you coming over tonight?

Her favorite cherry cola candies are tucked neatly in the kitchen cabinet

– sweet, sticky, and surreal.

Dark and unassuming, they hold a piece of my soul in the small aluminum tin.

Hey Mary, are you hungry?

My neck bares traces of her teeth,

her hands held my hips;

my blistered hands knotted her hair

Hey Mary, does my touch linger on your skin?

My gingham pillowcases still smell like her,

cocoa butter and coffee;

soft, and sickening, and all consuming.

Hey Mary, do your sheets still smell like me?

Her mother’s elegy is taped to my fridge,

her brother’s fourth grade photo is an everyday fixture on my coffee table:

my playlists were all built with her love of dancing in mind

Hey Mary, does your family know who I am?

The bottom drawer of my dresser is full of her clothes,

oversized shirts, too short shorts, and long pajama pants;

the clothes that she never wears outside of my apartment

Hey Mary, did you know that you look beautiful in the window’s moonlight?

Her very existence is rooted in gentle devotion,

in late night lavender tea,

in the way she murmurs my name as she wakes

Hey Mary, do you love me?

In the silent moments of the morning, as I rise to rinse my mug,

the one stained by her lips;

I nudge my treasured rosary over and pause,

Hail Mary, full of grace, I need no forgiveness.