L0V3

You cannot steal what is given freely,
and I have served my heart and breath in rapturous prayer

For you to take a bite of flesh, blood and pulse
would already be more reverence than I deserve,
my existence condensed to momentary sweetness in your mouth

The offered breath you release in the form of my name
exhaust from those crooked gates of heaven,
I would stop my lungs to forever cage within curved bone

Revelation sings in every seam of my body
where they fray and tear in your presence,
no vessel large enough to contain the way you make me feel

It is humbling, it is madness,
it is wishing for someone to trample on my fingers
that yet reach for what I dare not have-

There is great irony in asking a heathen to take a leap of faith