Tabernacle
I have developed an ambivalent atheism
for the world's fragrance,
always around the corner, I stab the belly
of an embryonic nostalgia,
any romantic landscape,
any history, belonging
all merge with the repulsive
nationalist project
outward, I have nothing,
my grandmothers' gentle femininity
reeks like the miasma of domestic violence,
innocence is so horribly satisfying -
I can no longer attend to it
but, shrouded, I nurture
much more than I am
prevented from having.