Southern sweets

A poem

You baptized a man in your waters

merely by whispering words.

You didn’t understand your power,

words used as ear candy

to make a man’s sweet tooth throb.

He buck-danced in southern soil

feet furiously marking territory

his arms stiff at his sides.

You wouldn’t let him touch.

Was it the lavender you sprinkled on,

the cinnamon promise of your taste

that kept him coming to temple?

Was it the curves of salvation

you often let him glimpse?

Or were you just a woman with time

weaving words like patterns

so he stayed blessed and alive?