I want religion wrapped in flesh.

I taste communion wine
and holy bread
when I kiss her.

I watch her bathe in holy water,
as the smell of frankincense and purity
wafts in the steam.

I see her crown
placed gently on the sink,
awaiting the return
of the one true queen.

I hear hymns
when she asks for a towel.

I think to myself
that she is God,
and keeps this from me
like a coy secret
only she can know.

She is religion wrapped in flesh.