Morning Prayer

this morning the body you so often disdain is indeed a temple
a sacrarium of what you think too big or too small
or somehow just not right
and our minds are altars to all the sacred cells of your perfect flesh
to thigh and belly
to small of back and freckled chest
to breasts
and morning muss of hair
and single strand, loosed,
brushing shoulder
and all that perfection,
all the hallowed parts of you,
all the holiness you take for granted
and judge
and wish to change
is the sweet god of heaven
and desire is our prayer