I never really believed in God until I looked into your eyes for the first time. Because I swear I have never seen anything more transcendent and godlike than the celestial firestorm in your eyes, when you see me, taciturn and stripped, my body claimed yours. Yours, since the first blaze flickered inside you. Despite your divinity, you drove a saint to drink. But maybe it was unintended; itβs not your fault your lips taste like wine.