I have to ask,
is the real me?
The soothing mass of color
that dominates what you see?
The fiery tones
exploding in the corner?
The determined strokes of white
that stitch a loosely woven alb
to mask the passions hidden there?
The stains
that seep through nonetheless,
like wine upon the altar cloth...
All me, I fear,
all working together in communion;
a taste of the Divine.
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