Sunset

Sunset
Les plus beaux couchers de soleil sont ceux que je passe avec toi

Monday, February 24, 2025

Love/Worship (Poem)

The place between your hairline and your eye, to the side of your eyebrow
For all my devotion, it's a place of worship. 
I press my lips to it and pray for us both
My heart goes to confession as I press my lips to yours
My mile of repentance is found in the baptismal blues of your eyes 
My heartbreak vanishes as I pay my tithes 
I redefine my tenets your arms wrap around me 
My beliefs go out the window as your thumb traces my cheekbone 
My alabaster heart cracks when you say my name
My prayer bead-lined soul scatters as you break me
My communion-filled stomach only feels full when I’m next to you 
This cathedral of broken glass mirrors my trauma-filled liver 
My incense-filled lungs rival the cigarette-smoked hotel rooms we stayed in 
I sing hymns of praise that have your name in every line
I kneel before you and sugar pours from your lips, a sweetness of our gentle sin


P.S. I am fully aware that this is heresy. I am also fully aware that when love is askew you can love like worship when it comes to these earthly bodies. Humans were made to praise God and sometimes that praise can go to other desires. Sometimes when my heart goes before my head, I find myself loving like this.

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