Closets and Churches

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Take Me to Church

My lover’s got humor.  She’s the giggle at a funeral.  Knows everybody’s disapproval.  I should have worshiped her sooner!
If the heavens ever did speak.  She’s the last true mouthpiece.  Every Sunday’s getting more bleak.  A fresh poison each week.
We were born sick,”  you heard them say it!  
My church offers no absolutes.  
She tells me, “worship in the bedroom.”
The only heaven I’ll be sent to…Is when I’m alone with you.
If I’m a pagan of the good times?  My lovers the sunlight.  To keep the Goddess on my side.  She demands a sacrifice!
Drain the whole sea.  Get something shiny.  Something meaty for the main course.  That’s a fine-looking high horse.  What you got in the stable?  We’ve a lot of starving faithful.
That looks tasty.  That looks plenty.  This is hungry work.
No Masters or Kings.  When the ritual begins.  There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin.  In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene…
only then I am human
only then I am clean.
Take me to church.  I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies.  I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife.  Offer me that deathless death.  Good god, let me give you my life.
##Andrew Hozier

Gay people should not join Catholic clergy, Pope Francis says

No room for ‘fashionable’ homosexuality and gay priests should be ‘impeccably responsible’ or leave