A Girl Named Mister

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“I am yours, Lord.

Do with me as you will.”

He wraps his light around me.

I am never the same again.

How did it happen?

I told myself

it’s only touching.

I told myself

my clothes are still on.

But who was I kidding?

Even through

my rayon-cotton blend

his touch

burned the world away.

Blame it on my mother.

She’s the one who named me

Mary Rudine.

The name is some throwback

her old-fashioned thinking

came up with.

Nobody but Mom

has called me Mary Rudine

since forever.

First it was Mary,

then it was M.R.

Mister is all anybody

calls me now.

My boyfriend used to think

it was cute,

a girl named Mister.

Used to think I was cute.

Used to be my boyfriend

what feels like

a million years ago.

Then again, I used to be

a good Christian girl,

the kind who would never, well…

Just goes to show

how little people know.

Even I was surprised by me.

Now, I close my eyes

hoping to see

exactly where I went wrong.

Was it that long ago?

I remember one morning

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