Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in
Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone
Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon
Show me slowly what I only know the limits of
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on
Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long
We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the children who are asking to be born
Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn
Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin
Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in
Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the end of love

Last night, I ate
the god ****** apple.
I plucked it from its branch
in plain sight.
There it sat, smooth and round,
in my eager palms—
tantalizing with promises
of fulfillment that causes
a hungry jaw to tingle at its corners.
I grazed it, playfully, with my teeth
before giving into my ultimate desires
to let the sweet juices pop
and run down my chin.
Then, charged with a satisfaction
that pulsed electric down my spine,
I took bite after bite,
easing into something
I had taught myself not to need;
a keen knowledge of indulgent pleasure
that makes woman, woman,
and woman wanted.
I reveled there in the heat of it all,
naked, sticky, and fully absolved
of that restless, nagging guilt.

I mean, come on,
Eve just wanted to know ****.

A poem... to give you... is it enough?

As my heart yields to your wounds, you have given me five hundred scars to wear; I will gladly bear another five hundred for you! Is it enough?

I have snatched away five hundred stars from the firmament above, slaying five hundred angels who guarded their celestial light! Is it enough?

Would five hundred days make any difference to you? To set my heels in the clay and march forward step by step to you until you saw my perseverance, is it enough?

Five hundred souls you have sifted through to discover just how inadequate they are for you. I ask you: is it enough?

**My heart is yours... is it enough?

Do you know that my heart is with another woman?
As I lay here holding you tight against me, my body is yours.
But can you feel this heart call out for her? Someone who isn't you?
Did you feel me as we made love, reach out for her? Cry for her?
It's her I see when I'm with you. And I don't know how that makes me feel.
You think I love you, but I'm just playing your heart like Beethoven under a moonlit night sky, playing a sonata...

Do you feel that? That warm tear that fell from my eye onto your cheek? Could you possibly know it's for her?
When I tremble alone at night, howling at the moon... yearning for the smell of her breath, the taste of her skin... her...

I barely know you, you're just pretty to me. Not as pretty as her.
Your hair is too long, too dark, too straight, too perfect.
Your eyes foster no depth to them; shallow and lifeless, a void. Hers are like diamonds reflecting a blue moon of a summer night.
Everything about you is wrong, compared to her. Your voice, your arms, your mouth, your heart... you aren't her.

But here I am with you, holding your hand.
There she is, sleeping alone.
Life is cruel.

If my God sacrificed
   His only Son for
   A manwhore like I,

Why should I be
   Unwilling to lay down
   My life for His glory?

I pray to die a death
   That will have His name
   Upon my lips when I
   Speak my last words.

I am but a lone man
   Rebellious in flesh
   Aloft in my desires.

Almighty I pray;
   Clean my heart
   With Your Spirit.