saying goodbye to my childhood church

Michaella Batten

there’s a coat room off
the entrance where
sunlight shines through
its stained-glass windows

scatters a kaleidoscope
of pinks and blues
across my cheeks like
fresh bloomed freckles

kissing her in this room takes static
electricity and turns it into lightning
i mean sizzle-bang-BOOM
kissing her splits my body in two

she cracks me open like a geode
holds me up to the sunlight and finds
the rainbow inside
no stained-glass needed

but kissing him in the third pew
feels like yellow on my tongue
mouth full of bumblebees
all sweet-sweet-honeysuckle-

innocence
buzzing in my chest dripping
into my stomach and growing
its own set of wings

his lips taste like lavender and sun
hers taste of peppermint and plum
i have faith that love
would never savour just one

but the congregation’s mouths gape
fill with wasps as they roar
loving her at all is a sin
so i shatter

the stained-glass window with lightning
collect a fistful of the broken pieces and
cover my eyes so i can see
rainbows wherever i go