Hymn to Them All

I don't think the Lord would mind
My nakedness, my bump-and-grind.
The pleasures of my body are
As faith and hope and charity combined.
Breathe deep the scent of musk and sweat.
My body isn't yours, and yet
I will give you what a god can give--
A view of heaven you won't soon forget.
The will of our father
Has withered in the son.
The songs of our mothers
The daughters know none.
The skin o'er my bones
Has a will all its own.
My hymn to them all
Is this dance I do alone.
The serpent on my back
Is doing somersaults
and pirouettes.
And no, it isn't after you--
It only wants
What nature gets;
A mate, a dance, a sleep, and not
A knowledge of
All else that crawls.
That breathes, that frets,
That prays, forgets;
That given Eden,
Hungers, falls.
In another sense I see
The serpent rising
Up for me,
The coming of
The unity of Truth
And femininity.
The trappings of
My shame and wrapped
Around your neck
Or on the floor.
And if you think
You've seen it all,
There's more,
My brother; so much more....
The will of our father
Has withered in the son.
The songs of our mothers
The daughters know none.
The skin o'er my bones
Has a will all its own.
My hymn to them all
Is this dance I do alone.
My hymn to them all
Is this dance I do alone.
My hymn to them all
Is this dance I do alone.
Alone alone alone alone
Alone alone alone alone
Alone alone alone alone....