cloth & warns me Don’t let him touch you. Christ wants you spotless.
When we are alone, she speaks softly You can be Isaac’s lamb.
I hold out for stigmata. Sister Maria says they often come to good
girls who do not let boys feel their privates.
She catches me looking at Lucas again & makes me kneel
on top of rice—digging into flesh, scouring every cell.
No more nasty girl. Arms lift me up. She kisses my knees
blood smeared on her lips.