Kissing Is a Sacrament

by W Roger Carlisle

Thirteen, going to my first church camp,
no awareness at that age,
just get up and play every day.
I even forgot to take my Bible.

I discovered girls at church camp,
the school for curious touching and exploring,
holy penitents practicing our puckering
accruing thousands of hours in purgatory.

Kissing and repenting, kissing and repenting—
Exploring your mouth with my tongue,
tasting your sweetness, my first french kiss,
pulling your lip with my teeth,
a little wetness, a little petting,
clothed touching of body parts.

Lessons about hell, repentance,
were quickly forgotten,
skinny dipping at midnight our sacred ritual,
nakedness our sacred vestment,
deliverance into the land of apricots and honey
our dream.

My only recollection now about camp
was one enduring catechism
“Sensuousness before GOD”

© 2023 W Roger Carlisle  All rights reserved.

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