I have your rosary beads
in my mouth.
But only God can judge me
as I lie underneath him.

Your worn-out hands
trickle down my thighs
to trace the bruises
you left there.

Your whispering something
in my ear.
But I'm not paying attention.

I'm too caught up
watching a bead of sweat
dance down your
jaw line.

Your not paying attention either.
You just wanna be
all tangled up in me.

And all I can think about
are the little pieces of your heart,
stuck up under my fingernails.