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A letter arrived in a mail at night
It was his message, an invitation to the wedding
A two-faced man, who made me his ***** behind the curtains
In the quiet of night, he always walked in to borrow my love

A letter arrived in a mail at night
It was him asking me to forget about what we had
But how could I forget his holy touch laced in sin?
When he left a part of himself engraved within me

A letter arrived in a mail at night
I was scared of that day, hoping for it to never come
I always knew he was a treasure I could only possess in dreams
While it is her who will truly know his love
This is Scene 4 of The Altar I Was Denied, a short story in form of poetry.
Lying in a bed with him
Where he told me how much he wants me
While I longed to hear the word only lovers hold the right to speak
I was his altar every night but only for the *** part

his voice low as he whispered his secret into my ear
While his hand was my pillow
he ran his fingers through my hairs
I lay there wide awake hoping to know him

I felt like my oxygen was being taken away
It is the only way to put it into words
he slept by my side while
Someone else possessed him in dreams
This is Scene 3 of The Altar I Was Denied, a short story in form of poetry.
When he was finished I was baptized
In the holy water, sweat and sin,
Our bodies all sweaty
And the stains on the velvet sheets
his scent on my body
he kissed me like he owned me

he Smoked a cigarette
And left a key for me
After leaving in the morning
To return back at night
I was introduced to his holy touch
Every night before he finally replaced me
This is Scene 2 of The Altar I Was Denied, a short story in form of poetry.
Suite 407, the door key said
he took me to his place after buying me a drink,
and told me that he is just a cop but
he sure spent a fortune that night

he led me inside and lifted me in his strong arms
threw me with care, on his bed’s velvet sheets
took my hand and tied those in his handcuffs
And whispered gently he wanted to ruin me

he spent the whole night showing me how he loves
and continued with his experiments on my body,
painted me like i was his favorite gothic figure
and loved me till morning, his hickeys on my neck
This is Scene 1 of The Altar I Was Denied, a short story in form of poetry.

— The End —