Mary of Egypt
by Donna Farley

The work on board was such as suited me,
For every novelty I had sucked out
Of Alexandria’s desiccated streets;
The lolling deck and hammocks left no drought
Of new and wicked fun. I loved the boys
The best of all, if love it were — at least,
To me their virgin selves were more than toys,
They were my heady wine, my constant feast.
I drained their innocence yet could not slake
The thirst that parched my soul. I disembarked
Still craving what I knew I could not take
Nor buy nor beg from paramours. The well
I found in desert land, the Love I sought,
Who stilled at last my thirsting with Himself.

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