Every inch of my remains aches at her name. I kneel beneath her eyes, gasp for my release from this dim existence.

Every tingle, every prickle. 

Breathe you like the early fall breeze, squeeze me in that space between now and then. Honey drips from beyond her thighs, so sweet she makes bastards slobber. Have you touched a surface so intense, so exhaustive? Her skin outlines years of experience. From her first moan to her final lust. And who am I but a fickle soul, lord, guide me to salvation. I don’t require this eternal devotion poets swear by. Don’t worry my love, life starts and halts here, with us. Suppose for a moment that God exists; that heaven assembles itself above us. Suppose that the angels chant their love songs, that death bides behind the bedroom door. 

It’s just us. Now. Here. 

If I could trace the curve of her hip, taste the brim of her lips, perhaps I could find God tucked in her thighs. Every release, every giggle. The panting, gasping, every prayer. 

This is salvation.

Send a prayer to those miserable souls. Curse the ones who have deemed us taboo. If they could listen to your whimpers of pleasure, if they could sense the tenderness of your grip, the pressure of your whiff. If they could witness you, they would believe. To hell with those who have split our bodies. This fire, this passion should never conceal its spark.

Do you think I care? 

Come! Let the world watch as I unravel your individual, strip you down to nothing but your primal instinct. Would they understand, then, that this community sears the most profound of sorrows? Tell them, my love, tell them how you obliterate this Earth every night, how you reassemble the heavens with your voice. What do they want from us? 

From me? 

Where do unfortunate people go, if not here? 
And when did pleasure feel this forbidden?

My God,

When the clouds abandon their chamber, and the moon soaks into the sky. When the people retire their days, renounce to death, when tomorrow dismantles its date. In that millisecond, between now and then, I love you. The end comes too soon, a jail break and liberation. Earnest laughter and capturing each other’s statements. If they could see you in this light, beneath my shadow. If they could see the gleaming sweat, the creases of your eyes. If they could fathom your breath,

Then they’d understand.

People, everyone, come watch as the devil escorts us away. Come witness what heaven’s sun feels like. God descends from flaxen steps, to celebrate this release. Woven into these uncertainties, a disparity of sensuality, eternity threads the gap between then and now. 

I believe,
God exists,
in you, in us,
here, now,
God exists. 

1. 

   I completely agree with you! This degree has introduced me to a world of history and culture. Thank you for…

2. 

   I hear your conundrum; I too suffer from a ‘title’ that doesn’t pay the mortgage…Beowulf, Dante’s Inferno, Canterbury Tales are…

3. 

   Welcome

4. 

   Thank you!

5. 

   Good stuff.