thinking about a priest sitting down with me and teaching me how to pray a rosary, i never learned, i was never raised with faith and now im not catholic, but he wants to save me. he teaches me, spending hours walking through it with me, our voices in synch as we go through each bead. until his hands start wandering on me, telling me that i must focus on reciting the prayers and practice rising above temptation. each meeting his hands wander father, push more boundaries, trailing the hem of my skirt and hiking it up, undoing buttons on my blouse. my voice shakes, i beg Mary for forgiveness as the priest presses himself into me