Quake into Me

And if we were to make something
as sacred as love,
as scarring as touch,
in Bulgaria,
under The Eyes of God,
I would still pray that I shook.

I would beg the rocks to fall down on me
and the moon to make the gold in my skin
gleam like silk
and that everything:
my nails in your back,
your face in my neck,
our limbs twisted and tangled together,
while our backs were arched in worship,
would cry

I would want the cave to break
and bend in a sharp line,
just so I could see God smile down at me.
I would open my eyes 
to meet the blue of the night sky,
feel my lover’s heart beat in time,
know that what’s made will last,
and that his lust has filled me

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s