touching myself in public restrooms

i spent my youth making
innuendos in church pews
but found new dignity in their cherry wood
the day my grandmother died
& saw they were the only thing
that could hold my father upright
in the birthing of his motherlessness

i still rearrange prayers into poems
& laugh through sunday homilies
but nowadays i find myself yearning
to know something worth worshiping.
so i orbit city chapels at 2 AM
& sink my knees into the dirt
of their gardens,
hoping to absorb
something godly.
i want to be sooted in stardust
& lust for false prophets
& all the positions i'd constellate my limbs
just to map their meridian minds

but right now i am unholy
touching myself in public restrooms
& opening my legs like a bible
for sacrilegious men
who swear no gods
come before me