Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
There’s a language in your eyes I want to know like my native tongue; Teach me how to speak to you And feel your essence fill my lungs; Run your fingers over me And wherever you touch, I’ll be clean. Heaven is the space where my hand Wraps around yours, And hell is every time you say goodbye And I watch you walk out the door. I’ve heard the whispers of saints in your laugh and god sits on the corners of your lips. I want to learn the art of devotion on my knees, Deliver to me my salvation with your kiss. I’m all yours, and although I’m a sinner, I believe in your quiet footsteps Like church bells sounding out The truths I’ve been searching for, and yet - They tell me the divine ones Live on parchment or locked behind heavenly doors, But you’re right here sipping coffee Next to me on the floor.
0
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 7:40 AM UTC
my religion
There’s a language in your eyes I want to know like my native tongue; Teach me how to speak to you And feel your essence fill my lungs; Run your fingers over me And wherever you touch, I’ll be clean. Heaven is the space where my hand Wraps around yours, And hell is every time you say goodbye And I watch you walk out the door. I’ve heard the whispers of saints in your laugh and god sits on the corners of your lips. I want to learn the art of devotion on my knees, Deliver to me my salvation with your kiss. I’m all yours, and although I’m a sinner, I believe in your quiet footsteps Like church bells sounding out The truths I’ve been searching for, and yet - They tell me the divine ones Live on parchment or locked behind heavenly doors, But you’re right here sipping coffee Next to me on the floor.
For her
cait-harbs
Written by
Mar 2, 2021
Mar 2, 2021 at 7:40 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem