Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Roman Payne May 7
No god above could ever inspire
my love like She whom I admire.
The temple where each night I pray,
is the holy bed where nights She lay.

A cup of wine.
A bed divine.
No world outside,
nor thoughts of time.

Our bodies meet,
our arms enlace;
our limbs entwine,
our lips embrace.

When lips first taste of passion's bliss,
in this holy kiss that we rehearse;
our bodies' grace is our godliness,
our bed divine is our universe.

Shrine of our idolatry,
bind our flesh eternally;
sear our chests with passion's fire,
adhere our groins of mad desire.

Forever our spirits in the Heavens soar,
however, we plummet - to the floor.
Fingertips chase over slips of lace.
Teeth they find all things that bind...

How savagely our clothes unwind
as we prepare on bed divine
to make the sacrifice sublime!

And all Creation comes from this
Breath we form in holy kiss.
When lips combine
Your breath in mine,
two breaths they form
one breath divine.

Déesse, mon âme,
by Your body,
All that's godly, I define.
For what could be in the skies above,
that I can't find within Your love?

Our love, it makes the stars align,
the moon eclipse,
and the solar shine.

And all Creation comes from this
Union of our holy kiss.


[End of Act I]
Audio version of this is free on Roman Payne's SoundCloud page.

— The End —