In the church of the flesh he is the purest devotee,
down on his knees before a goddess both feral and tender,
both darkness and fire. In her will there is peace
for this wandering Orpheus, this pagan John the Baptist
spreading the good news of the end of the world
and the triumph of Love in both creation and destruction.
With hair ablaze, with fingers streaming light
he boldly sings his own mortality, ready to decompose
to feed the Rose of the world, the one and only goddess
who walks always behind him, dark and bright, feral and tender,
life and death and love and his heart in her hand.