Temple Blue

Cast your soaps and works
To our temple blue
And we will bathe in them

If right they will slither well
On our bodies
Like milk

We will grant you elements:
blue hand compass
red organ embrace
and faces of four

If wrong they will crack
Our skin sour
Our mood ill and silent

But no matter
These elements you cannot resist
Forever will we bathe freely
Yet indifferent
In your soaps of self

Afterall, we have many of our own
As you are the one in need of cleansing