Heresy

All that I desire
Is to feel the tender sacrilege of Your warm breath
Upon My neck
As You whisper soft blasphemies
Into My ear.

Heresy in Our lust.

I do not hate but I also do not love.
I do not pretend to have wings so that I may fly.
But so that I may fall.

Angels are not saviors.
Step down from the Cross.
Think not that My intent is to offend.

When You kneel down before the altar. I kneel with You.
When You drink from the Cup. I drink with You.
When You eat of the Body. I break the fast with You.

When You sit in the pew sobbing, head bowed, hands clasped in prayer.
I pray with You.

But he does not listen. I do.
he does not answer. I do.
he does not forgive. I do.

When you feel that lingering caress between the sheets,
It is I who touches You. Anointing You with oil,
To consecrate the flesh. Bathing You with Holy Water.
In the sweat soaked embrace of Our passion(ate) kiss.

When those two sets of footprints in the sand become One.
It is not because I have fallen and god lifts Me up.
It is because God has fallen and I lift Her up.