Hands to temples to chest, nervous lips mouthing verses from the Holy Book.
My God is Love and my God, do I love Him
I worship Him everyday, five times a day.
I love Him.
But I love him too.
And I let him go.
Then I let Him go.
I baptized my throat with the holy water of Night and begged His forgiveness.
I begged Him to take me back.
To love me again.
And He did.
I burnt my mind and my lungs, and purged my soul of the sin of being.
I cried for You to let me in.
And You did.
I bleached my heart and bleached my guts and tried to find myself.
I tried to love myself.
To be worthy of my love.
But I was not worthy of Yours.
And I’m not worthy of yours either.
I fell to my knees in worship of his being and showed him how love can feel if he just let me into his temple.
My knees haven’t since touched the ground to remind You how my love feels.
I let him rip my soul from where my thighs loved each other and show me that You are real.
My palms haven’t since cupped the air and thanked You for the blessings you hand me.
We sang a symphony of desire written in bass and soprano in reverence of each other.
My lips haven’t since recited a hymn for You.
I pressed my body against his in search of a worship I could finally be good at.
My lips cried out his name in pleasure and sin, and all the in-betweens.
My lips cried out Your name in desperation and love, and all that came out was a deafening silence.
Why don’t you love me anymore?
Do You still love me?
They say love is a form of worship
But how is love worship when you worship Love itself?
How is love worship when they say Love does not let you worship through love?
How do I find you?
How do I worship what You’ve given me?
I love You.
I think I love you.
But do You love me?
Do you love me?