but like all sinners I don't get what I want, so I want it all the more

And like every sinner, I prayed,
"Take this sin away from me" but
the sin was mine, and how to take it
and not call it stealing? So

I ate my sin. Like any good sinner
I have an appetite. I could eat as much
as I drink. And you know how much
I like a neat Mark. I don't think twice.
          I swallow it down.
          Two fingers, no water.
Once, then once more. So it burns?
          What won't?
Like any dirty girl, I went down
to the river to wash it all away.
To be made clean. But
          the river threw me up,
          water wouldn't have me,
back onto the trail left to my trials.
And sin reigned down upon me

like those hot rays of sun that penetrate
the leaf. Like the feathers of a blackbird
come down like rage. "Oh God," I cried,
          "Lay me down in a cool bed
          of rhododendrons"

and "Let them cover my naked ambition"
but like all sinners I don't get what I want, so
I want it all the more, the petals' sweet droop
like lips, their generous spill over the verge,
the shade below where I might be safe

from the light that did not love me enough,
          not really.
All sinners know that. We stumble
enough to know: not everyone rises again.

[Vievee Francis {1963- } 'Given to These Proclivities, By God', from Cherry Tree]