Neither the silver nor gold are tarnished,

Cradled by velvet and shut fast within

Proud symbol, symbolically banished,

Burnished no more with the oil of my skin.

 

Never discarded, but exiled from breast,

As knowledge fractured the edge of belief

Context warred against allegory’s best

A ritual removal granted relief.

 

No gold can represent carpenter’s creeds

No more than can ores be sourced from leaves,

No doctrine extant to dictate good deeds

No less a soul than a man who believes.

 

Although we exist and reside apart

A cross remains branded upon my heart.