Sacrament

I want to find you like rain finds a forest, 

Seep into your depth.

Settle at your roots. 

Soak myself into the parts of you that birthed every ache you have.

I want to make your limbs bloom,

Your spine rise toward the sky while your tremors climb the ivy of my hands that keep you cradled,

keep you close. 

Give me your shipwrecks,

The salted swell of your walls 

That hope for riptides that bring you back 

to earth 

in azure swirls.

Let me

Set you back 

into quiet, 

Into me,

Still and fevered from swallowing 

the crash of you

whole,

gulps only a hurricane knows.

Bow back.

Break. 

I will keep your tides 

At the end of my throat, 

I will

savor the sweet

cream of your sighs like a chorus 

Of warmth 

I clawed through undercurrents to find.

Tonight I want 

to linger my cheek 

between the silk 

of your legs,

When the light of the room cuts through the depth of us again, 

And the downpour of my hunger can’t stop.

Tonight I want to 

Breathe up your curves like you’re 

My moon,

My chamomile, 

My sacrament.

 

Let me show you love,

Just how 

worship

Is done.