[poetry] Dandelion Seeds[possibly not work-safe]

[JetPlane]

You sat on my lap,
facing me, as
if raised for me to judge
you.
I passed my hands
around to hold your back,
keeping you where
I could look up at you.
The skin of your back
was warm against my fingers,
your breasts and my breasts,
closest vicinity and I smiled
at the way you fit so easily
into my arms, your temperament
was nothing less than a
warm smile, your skin
awash of lighted
freckles, each minute
progress of light,
round pupils I kissed the lids
closed over,
and the softness of your breath
against the back of my neck
when I leaned forward
to kiss your palms
felt like a blessing.

"Forgive me father for I have
sinned. I'm a Jew and I've
never confessed."
"What sins have you commited,
my child?"
"Bedding a beautiful woman."
"Twelve Hail Marys and wearing of
a burlap sack for 18 days."
"Thank you, father. You are good."

My skin is raw and impartial,
but your hands are so soft and polite
against my cheeks, the callouses
refined as God's dislike and
the lap of your kisses falls onto my eyes
like snow,
cool cleansing celestial
beautiful.
The words are thick and my
eyes are near blind,
but you hold me,
pressing your small
hands across the welts,
encompassing me as God
would his son and I hold you to me,
a confessed, revoked Jew.
You kiss my eyelids,
closing them softly and I feel
your breath at my neck,
your kisses on my shoulder blades,
scabbed and papal.

"Forgive me father for I have sinned.
It has been 19 days since my last
confession."
"What sins have you committed, my child?"
"Blaspheming the church and bedding a
beautiful woman."
"How did you blasphemy the church, my child?"
"I told my lover that the church tries
to hurt those they don't understand."
"And your lover is a woman?"
"Yes."
"25 Hail Marys and wearing of a burlap sack
for 22 days, three of which in complete confinement."

"Forgive me, God, for I am told I have sinned. I
have never confessed to you."
"What sins have you commited, my child?"
"Loving and bedding a beautiful woman."
"And have you atoned for your sins?"
"Yes, I have. I have said my 'Hail Marys' and
I have worn the burlap sack, even in
complete confinement."
"And do you feel better after this atonement?"
"No."
"Then you have nothing to atone for. There is nothing
wrong with love, but understand that when an atonement
for a sin is so terrible it makes your lover weep,
you are not atoning. You are giving up
a part of yourself for a greater pain."

You kiss the scars on my back,
as gently as if you were blowing
the seeds off a dandelion,
and clasp your hands
in front of my stomach,
holding me so tightly against you
I can feel our breathing align.
The wine glasses bobble atop
the table cloth and your smile
presses into my shoulder
and your hand in mine feels as
it should and the callouses
soften when you kiss my neck
and I judge you as beautiful.