My body is a temple.
The sloppy seconds of a once-great civilization.
Born of the dark shining marble of kings and queens and native sons but now imperfect
The fissures and cracks of battles fought and lost, leaving markers on dark skin along the way
Once great temple filled with the hollowed out holes of piercings stuck in flesh to rebel
Inner beauty tattered and torn by party and bullshit and everything in between
My body is a temple.
Shining and new
The power to dance and raise the spirits of the gods.
The thoughts that come together to prophesize the unbelievable
The mouth to form words with the power to ignite men
The face with beauty rivaling the greatest Cathedral in all of ancient Rome
My body is a temple
Forever under construction.
