The word lover clung like a borrowed coat,
tight at the throat, a choking note.
A name too small, a mask too worn,
where daylight dulled and night was torn.

But my body burned another song,
beneath the sun, the moon’s throng.
A hunger sharp, a tender sting,
when love was caged in spoken thing.

Then you appeared
your hand a flame,
a silence tearing through my name.
Through wandering tongues, through shifting skies,
you struck a lantern in my eyes.

Not "finger me", so brutal, bare,
but feel me breathing in the air.
Not "eat me out", that hollow cry,
but taste me where the dark stars lie.

Not "**** me", thrown into the night,
but **** me "God" till it’s a rite.

Your words, like threads of molten fire,
wrapped me hard in raw desire.
A temple rose, not clean, but true:
I opened whole, I opened new.

And oh, my God
what filthy love can do.