Unabashed Confusion I -Where Am I

Where am I? I stand softly, I lean against a vine-stained wall, gilded in ancient cracks and wrinkles, crowned with thorns. I stretch, I hold out my arms, Christ-like, to you. My trembling fingers curl upward in prayer, catching rain and blood kisses in spiraling rivulets, caressing the air we displace together. My lashes shiver, cold with emotion, fringed with pearls. my lips curve, alabaster sheen, not smiling, a supplication, around the message in my eyes – my eyes that plead from a soul’s capacity for sorrow unabashed in confusion.