abstinence 

how do you keep from devouring
all the meat in the ice box? 
i was in sunday school & our teacher
stood in front of the class asking,
"what is abstinence?" i thought about
bees invading my mouth. kneeling
in the creek while a sledge hammer
talked into my mouth. my life has never
been linear. i turn corners & my father 
is always there to jump out & scare me.
i would fall on my back & become a pill bug.
the answer was "not eating meat."
it was lent & we were all planning
our sacrifices. when i think of abstinence 
i think of butter in the microwave. 
of everything i want to have done to me.
calling a rooster in the middle of the night.
the boy who confessed that he loved me
too quickly because he needed money.
our back-seat hookups. counting cash.
his guitar & ripped jeans. i have never wanted
to stop but especially not when it's for
my own good. the irony is that 
i don't eat meat. i go to roadkill
to worship. i fillet meat from 
my own bone. make bird houses of my eyes.
have you never had a man beg for you?
i have in every way possible. there is always
a little woman standing in my mouth
& a little man knocking for air 
from where he's pressed beneath my tongue.
if you are not careful a gender will become you.
i am nothing. i am just a pound of ground beef.
the skillet my mother used as a craddle.
sunday school teacher tells me 
he is free this weekend & it could mean anything.
a white board with a diagram of me.
the church is full of cows. i go & tell them
it is lent & i am giving up everything.
voice like a dropped chalice. it is sometimes best
to just keep you mouth shut &
not try to tell the full truth. 
use the fragments to make a stained glass window.