Oh dear God,
How you make me shake.
I haven't been this nervous since I taught myself how to ride a two-wheeler in the sixth grade.
That day brought many scraped ankles and a bruised ego.
This one swells the ***** that pumps blood and other things methodically beneath my left breast.
I think that's where my heart is supposed to be.

Oh dear God,
How your voice makes me simmer.
I'm a tasteless soup, watered down and with all the good parts hidden deep inside.
You can't see them; you can only feel them.
You can only taste them.
You are what gives me spice, what gives me heat.
What gives me life.

Oh dear God,
How you make me adore you.
You are the smell of rain.
You are the sheets tangled around my torso in the morning.
You are the blush behind my cheeks.
You are the aches in my chest whenever your name is said out loud.

Oh.
Dear.
God.