ritual on the floor My private Aphrodite, oh, the crown of sweet, sweet rituals! She is wreathed in pink curls, sugar sweet, cotton candy, peachy keen We are sitting on the hard tile of a dorm room floor. She is baptizing me in the New Way, working hellfire, orange juice, sunsets, autumn leaves, through my scalp When I wash it out, half an hour from now, A little of the sin will stay behind The sweet crown of sweet friends’ rituals.
Danny Paulk Class of 2021
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