My body is a temple,

So when you visit, wash your hands clean.

Rid yourself of all ego,

And respect what few have seen.

Be quiet and be gentle.

Run fingers along polished wood,

For it is a force with which to be reckoned,

Where good meets bad, where bad meets good.

It is temptation and salvation,

Strong will and weak minds,

It is magic, it is beauty,

What some would say is one of a kind.

So when you come to see this temple,

Remember that it is a holy place.

Rid yourself of all your ego

Stay awhile, allow embrace.

Don’t carry excess baggage

And leave it piled in the stands

For in this temple there can be damage,

A heart broken by a selfish man.

He found my temple and sought solace

Stayed for a night, and nothing more,

For fear of caring for that temple,

Made him walk straight out the door.

So I lay naked while he left clothed,

Like nothing there seemed so insane.

My bare hands shaking, bare lips quaking,

Like I’d lost all that he’d gained.

He left my temple without notice,

Left it empty and unsure.

Didn’t bother to look back once,

While I lay bare and insecure.

He left my temple without warning,

Though he said he never would,

Because to him, it was just another room,

Where good met bad, where bad met good.

Thokozile Zimba