Standing in the minister's garage,just talking for a change. An older
elder enters, speaking briefly,
friendly, to the pair and turns to go,
but not before he swats her on the butt.
With his Bible, no less, and even blinded
by the lies, it makes her frown.
What makes him think he has the right,
she thinks, but just as quickly knows the answer.
If his boss takes liberties with teenage girls
and married women, why the hell
can't he? Still offended,
robbed of innocence and dignity,
convinced it was her choice
to give it up as on a platter just like
gifted head of John the Baptist,
she makes a little face, steps closer
to the minister so this elder is aware
she's not that kind of girl at all. And
then he's gone, and they're alone
again in this garage that smells
of gasoline
and something else.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013
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