Among the light of what we could become now, you are every feathered feeling, every gentle caress ever needed 
Within the dark of what has become of this us you are every rushed breath, every grip of a sheet and flesh, and every whisper through and out of 
We together are both damnation and salvation within every sin of touch, and every blessing of voice 
We are sacred hymns only to be sang through fingertips, make this so heartfelt  the angels up above touch solid ground just for us 
Do not go to confessional but repent within the space between these lips 
Rebuke all that we have done because we could 
And only he who rests overhead knows that this is not the love we think we have 
-Ashanti Lee