UP YOU GET: your knees were never meant for grovelling

And you, amor, you shine!

Did you know

You shine

Just as brightly as

The person you worship?

And that if what once felt

Like the splinter of a chicken bone

Lodged in your throat

Has petridished into

A whopper straight out of

Jurassic Park,

Then sweetie,

You’ve been

Circling the altar on your knees

For far too long.

Up you get.

Bin the bunting,

The banners,

The balloons.

Grab two handfuls of confetti,

Toss them high

And twirl in the spotlight

Like the heroine

Of your own damn movie.