Foreplay for Piety

The interior of her home displayed a dispassionate religion. Its walls lacked ritual and idolatry.
Her mechanical rigour as wife made for the spruce and homely. The air lukewarmed by the sun.
Yet she makes a seditious preparation of herself. A gamy salve of cloves and oil.
A nakedness adorned by silver and silk. In her Ikat she steps into the light.

It was a lovely airing, a good jaunt. The heat and yawning does her likely.
The tattle and musk down the road of humanity. She stops at the first turn, the next world.
She takes her key and unlocks the door. She enters away from the swelter.
In the darkness of her Muse's hearth. Sweat trickled down her tenuous flesh.

The sentient angel Daniel sleeps. She opens one window and reads his Breviary.
She kisses it and comes to him. She takes a cloth to wash and annoint his body.
The Angel Definiendum, sullied and errant of Heaven. A stubbled warhorse haunted by mortality.
He awakens with the sweet scent of cloves. He rises.

She presses her Ikat to his body. She wists her cheek to his chest.
He feels the flutter of her lashes. He kisses the sweat and hair on her head.
She weeps and her mouth follows the tears to his breast. Her tiny lips find his nipple, she tastes.
With the levity of the haze. Her oiled fingers glide, a sanctimonious piecemeal, upon his back.

He untangles the sash that ties her Ikat. The silver and silk fall to his feet.
The angel partakes of the most delicious of corporal sins. An animal vortex.
It billowed in his belly as her destitute venerator. She praised him with her tongue.
Oh Magnificat! Fatihah! He holds her hands and she kneels.

Angel Messenger of Heaven, Corruptor of the Lexeme. Expelled by God for his detraction of Dogma.
Now bound in famished flesh and a surfeit of Breviary. His phallus languishing in the Hell of woman.
He sucks her confectious fingers with the prowess of a piper. The nectar of her womb annoints his feet.
The gravity of the Earth will never release their souls. For they are doomed to each other's Flesh.