Confession #1245:
The bible says he is my husband.
We both have long hair
we braid our hair together.
He kisses just right
and licks me like a dog.
When we make love
he asks me to cover
myself up in the streets
because I am his beloved
and I was made for him.
Sure, it's ***** but
it also makes me feel like
I'm his Holy Secret.

He loves the gays
He loves the sinners
because He ain't into judging people
by the way they be sinning differently.
If I step out of line,
He, watches, me, give, penance.
I go from sitting, to kneeling,
to standing, to sitting, to kneeling...
"Yes my Lord."

He sings versus from Song of Songs
our favorite erotica and we get down -
like a couple of innocent animals.
Sleeping afterwards as if we were dead
because everyday is a new resurrection.

It's some kind of redemption.

He loves me, I am His Mary Magdalena.
When I turn around
The ****** smiles at me
because we be all
glowing, floating.

He may not have my virginity
but He did pop my ****** cherry.
Yup, I said it and it's not gross
- it's pure love.
When I let Him in,
I prepare to, really, let Him in.
I mean everything,
I am His wilderness.

He taught me a new kind of tantra.
The kind of tantra that lets me be
a little girl, a young woman
and an abuela all at the same time.
Because when He is apart of me,
He whispers 'Beloved I am made
for you and you are made for me.'

He says things in three...
One, Two, Three...
He will spare me, his child.
He will spoil the rod...
or our shared copy of The Word.
If I lust after a man it makes me excited
to beg my Holy Spirit to forgive me...
I would never jeopardize a love
that reincarnates me.

When I look at him,
I think about how many times
how many revolutions
how many lives
how many millennia
Eternity.

He has a small drop
of my ***** juice in him.
I have a small drop of
his ***.
These two little pieces of us,
sit inside our stomachs.
When we laugh,
that's when
they are
speaking
to each other.

We never spill seed.
We don't want.
We don't waste.
If we do then, we spread,
it all over, moisture.

We dispense spit into
each other's mouths,
because...

Everything he says is perfect.
Everything he does is perfect.
Everything I say is perfect!
Everything I do is perfect!
If it's not, then it wasn't us,
it was the one armed man.
I AM sorry
Please forgive me.
Thank you.
I love you.

I ask him to come inside of me
once in the morning
and once at night.
Sometimes I call him Daniel.
Sometimes I call him Moses.
Sometimes I call him Luke...
Anything but ******.
'Yes my Lord.'

The hereafter, my paradise,
worshiping Him.
When we die, we dive,
deep deep deep
down down down

The Music
The Gospel
The Truth

The Light
The Son
The Mother

The Father
The Holy Spirit
The Dance

Where we have wings
made out of the internet.
The pixels of our love
are witnessed in perpetuity,
Immortality.
'Yes my Lord.'