the pinch on a biretta
touch of fingers to the fabric
red
as your lips mama
anointed by the Revlon red
that night Dad took you to the dinner and a show
they
do it for the hat the cardinals
not for the chairs straight backed screech
like fingernails on blackboards
bloodcurdlers
velvet whispers in the night the footstools
oh so good for kneeling upholstered with the wishes of your
mother
touch the sin Cardinal wet fingered
from the font
strange birds they must be
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