Longing must be an act of worship, and I do it fervently. “I wrote you endless confessions that turned into poems. But you still banished me.” I said to my deity. “I admit, I am but an unloved thing aching to be loved. Oh, it hurts. It hurts to worship you.” I cried to her during one of my confessions. “I wish to share my loneliness with you” I said, trying not to break.
“Goddess of adoration, I shall worship you in secret. In the dark, I will come to you with my ardent desires, unholy cravings, and burning longings. For I solely exist to please you.” I said under my breath. “Your mouth, a glowing thing in the dark. I set ablaze at the mere thought of my tongue merging with the river of you.” I whispered, shaking with an unspeakable hunger. “Allow me to show you how deep my devotion goes. I could burn for you” I said.