December 26 Poem - The Sermon, for @feline_fatale

this is
my statement
you got
to shake it once
you know
how it goes
because you
will feel it
somewhere
below the waist
lined up
and limber
or down
for whatever
works you up
and over
and over
until it becomes
a sweet patina
of sweat
like beads
of salvation
they drip
on and on
until the break
undone
and out
into the night
and your eyes
illuminate
the street lights
with something hot
and holy
until everything simmers
shimmering
like the blues
or lust
and the traffic
is a funeral march
that mourns
your passing.