The Pentacle

“The Pentacle”

The pentacle sits on my dresser

Ready to be worn with today's outfit

Will it be tucked in? Or visible to all?

This flashy geometry invites strife

forty-five degree angles inside a three-sixty

is such a shit disturber.

This five-pointed star in a circle

May as well be a Scarlet A

Though open legs are a lesser

sin than polytheism

I've seen the scorn as their eyes fall on my throat

Feel the judgment like knives in my back

Or like flames if they had their way

They can't suffer me to live

And for what? Your Cross?

Your perpendicular salvation?

Your geometric self-righteousness?

Keep your Psalms off me.

I never sacrificed a child

I don't want your symbolic cannibalism

I don't worship your deceiver

I think your savior is sad for you, not me

I don't need your spoon-cooked patriarchy

The moon is my Trinity

And if I'm at an orgy, any god

is the last thing on my mind.

Tuck in my pentacle?

Oh, you'd love it if I hid it.

In that case

I wear my pentacle proudly

A shield against your misguided crusade