Sincere or insincere

Until the word

Had slain me

I was no more

Than a son

Until then

I was a son

Of a bitch

Then I ran into

The arms

That kept me

That ransacked me

That emasculated

My sin from its mooring

Now I am but

An immaculate sufferer

A blackened moor

Beside an imbecile mirror

I am unwilling

To bend before god

Or the evils

Of the second self