They say,
there are too many hands on my body
my love does not exist between hushed lips
my heart is empty,
it is swallowed by temptation

They say,
the fathers look down on me
my temple is not holy
my hands they stray too far,
they tremble before desire
they've never seen a temple like mine.

Read the scriptures on the walls
it rolls from my arms to my wrists,
it's scrawled on the curves of my shoulders
my thighs are covered in stories, in cries
my skin holds insecurity beyond words can describe

Feel the aching of my soul
my back is a canvas that holds memories
my heart, a worn down home, it hopes for fire
my hands know only the cold
I am a lost animal seeking shelter,

Drink the nectar of my growth
the depth of the abyss that I've climbed out of
the bittersweet pulp of the hands of man
Feel the warmth on your lips as it drips
I am an ongoing project

They say,
I'm too lost in youth
They don't understand,
history lies inside these walls