I'm not Sorry (partial?)

I’m not sorry
For the way I worship
A temple of flesh and pure
Of earthen spiral groves and sapphire of skies
Of undulating cacophony of voices that cry worship-
Fingers like branches that reach and root upturned
Or the number of gods
That hold my faith

I’m not sorry
For a sexuality that is not quite limited
To the encasement of flesh it was born to
Or chooses to be
That love is something sacred and pure
Not to be determined by the stigma of your crux
And how fucking beautiful I find every time it blooms
In the patterned flecks of my lovers eyes

I’m not sorry
For the passion that burns beneath this breast
That sometimes spills out of these lips
and into the ears of those most unwilling to listen
The way that flame sometimes manifests
In the wag of the tongue, the shake of the flesh
How a dance of submission can be the strongest
Form of trust and strength

I’m not sorry
For the rose tinted glasses that see this world
For the humanity of a giving hand to a broken man
Who’s ashen liver floats with the stain of too many years
Yet that heart sings out the praise of Shakespeare in the most beautiful language I’ve ever heard it
Asking for payment in the form of a candy bar to ease the ache of an empty stomach
A twisted mind and a story long enough to fill some chapter book
With weathered stained sneakers that have seen too many miles