We had one of those
Sacred Heart plaster busts
in the stair landing.
The gory kind.
The one with the
red, meaty, bleeding heart
breaking through the wound
in the flesh.
No issue there.
Witnessing
the comings and goings
of everyone up and downstairs.
But I—
I would genuflect
in front of it
every
single
time.
And most times,
I would also
kiss the heart.
Just picture it.
My family thought
I was extremely devout.
There was a mix of
awe and apprehension.
This went on for years.
But deep down,
I knew better.
I knew the name for this was—
Compulsion.
Defiant Devotion – Bottlecap Press, 2025 (Chapbook)