How do I say what I feel.
The hard and soft sound
From tongue to lips forming
The ministry of worship
Secular sentiment steeped
In the sweet breath
Of dreams and dreamers.

In the night, we expose
our underbelly,
Begging to be scratched, 
Surrendering to the touch,
We confess faults  contained 
Behind a curtain of champagne.

The chit chit of fear
Of losing you and
Facing the sudden ouster
from this
 safe sublime embrace.
The divvying up of plates and silver
Between family who become  
vultures scrapping over nightclothes
In the chamber of Ebenezer.

You are no miser
Though you hide your riches
You deep in your  heart.

These are my confessions.
tumble like River rocks
Until smooth and round and bare ,
Lying just below the surface  
That, like the veil of the confessional, 
Masks the true shape and size of them.

Alyse Sammarco 
June 1, 2021