I have found God on my knees, read scriptures along your lifelines. I sang your praises into my hardwood floor, memorizing every note as they fell from my lips. Hold me close and make me believe in a deity I can only see by starlight.
Our bible is not written in ink. It is a roadmap of purples and blues scattered along my collarbones, parables of passion bruised into my hips. I will give you this body if you will show me divinity until the glints of morning touch this church of hollow promises and hot breath.
I will murmur my sins into your skin until the morning makes us mortal again. But for tonight make me your disciple, let me drink you in like sweet ambrosia until I am sure that the stars spell your name. For tonight, make me absolute.