Extreme Unction
The thing you had for him was somewhere in
Between the condemnation of the prudes
And attitudes of libertines, not sin
Yet not just sentimental pink or moods
Of valentines and lilies. Far above,
Beyond these two extremes it wasn’t more
Than just itself, simple as the rock of
Love, certain as the throne of Christ — the door
To heaven was this Purgatory. Juice
He gave you, bursting warm and acrid, sweet,
This bechamel on teeth, a tasty sluice
For strong ones — or a stern sauce served with meat.
Black sabbath orchards rendered up dark wine
And flesh was consecrated in their shrine.