She's My Religion

Her sprawling body is where
I lay my prayers that are balancing
off the tip of my tongue.

Her sweet flesh is the wine of
the Christ I believe to be my
true savior.

Those arms of hers are like the wings
of an angel, wrapping around me and
making me feel free of sin.

I know I'm tainting her in the sin
of who I am, she the virgin Mary who
is laying in the bed and destroying
the rules of normality with me.

Her fingers tighten on my hair as
I kiss her up and down, head to
toe.

Her breasts hold in them the shape
of my cross that I turn to when I
need to cry.

Her tears are the rain of the world,
her sweat and orgasm is the wine I
get drunk on.

She's my religion and I am just her
lowly follower, kissing her perfect
feet so gently, praying she will never
stop loving this cruel hearted woman...