My Saviour’s got a long dark curly hair
though she is not tall
and being born of bone ’n flesh she is as beautiful
as no one of the saints
My Saviour ’s got a little springy breasts
smiling to me
with their rosy nipple buds when I smell the odour
of an unopened milk blossom
My Saviour ’s got healing hands covering
the part of my chest
where the pain knocks from the shelter
of the devil.
My Devil ‘s got dark short hair
smelling out of my memory
like some incense of holiness and
a tiny mole underneath –
the precious diamond of Madonna’s eye dew –
an ambrosia drink for my lips
kissing the timelessness
My Devil ‘s got little innocent breasts so well sized
for to be covered with my palms
when she sleeps and whenever I try
to hold back my arm
she catches it with her tender touch
of whispering the way she loves
My Devil ‘s got a childish voice that awakens
my fatherly instinct of protection
My Saviour ‘s got seven crystals
and the bell of her laugh
seven pure crystal sounds of belief and freedom
and one more – of compassion
is she born out of my sadness
my devil
my saviour