Scarlet scepter,
shaft of life,
rising and falling, this pillar of flesh,
arousal of passion,
the flame of desire,
bear witness to the triumph of pleasure.
This hunger,
fed only by you,
leads us as seekers to your religion,
and we worship with bended knee,
with parted lips,
our mouths agape with wild tongue,
to receive the baptismal.
Nectar rains from the God above,
we struggle to taste its heavy scent,
rain down and renew our spirits.
Our skin anointed with the holy balm,
who’s dark fragrance enraptures.
No perfume compares to your intoxication.
Our mouths the cup that overflows,
your love onto the earth.
There is such beauty,
in the seed that is spilled in the name of lust.
Through this we are all made God.
Through this our bodies are made Holy.
