Heavenly Father,

if the road of life leads to heaven,

let my lover pass through

his beauty outshines this wicked world.

His beauty glows, oh, it glows,

like the last champagne light at the end of the party.

His beauty endures

as the world grows colder. And, Lord,

let him be your angel,

even if I am left to burn.

 

His wings shadow the threshold of infinity.

The smallest atoms of his being

spill into me like holy wine,

filling my soul with a redemption

I will never deserve.

His heart a crimson rose,

opening, bleeding,

a bloom that brings me to weeping.

His hands, strong as steel, never rusting,

yet they could shatter me like glass.

And his kiss, oh Lord, his kiss

burns my soul with the slow sweetness of damnation,

as though my fate were already sealed

in the fire that waits below.

 

Such heavenly beauty

drags me to the filthiest sins.

His love, unending,

makes me ache with unworthiness.

like a moth unraveling in the flame,

knowing I will perish,

yet choosing the blaze.

And oh, I would gladly scorch

my skin, my heart, my eternity,

for he is worth my ruin.

He is worth my soul.

He simply is.

 

And in death

as the earth folds me in,

as maggots feast upon my body’s collapse,

take my lover, Lord.

Take him, not me.

 

Banish me to the long corridors of purgatory,

let centuries grind my spirit to dust,

if only I might see him again.

One last glance of his face,

the pale edge of his skin,

a single strand of his dark hair,

I would barter all salvation for it.

I yearn. I ache. I decay for it.

 

And then, drag me to hell.

Brand my soul,

tear me open,

as you welcome him into your heaven.

For even if he never knows it,

my love will outlast the bones of this world.

You will know it, Lord.

You would remember. You would.

 

You are eternity. You are infinity. You are genesis.

You are all-seeing, all-knowing, the memory of every heartbeat, every flicker of desire, every sin and every devotion.

And yet, in your infinite knowledge,

you will remember my love; my undying, all-consuming love.

my sin, my purity, my curse, my blessing, all fused into the single truth of him.

 

And that, Lord, is the only divine gift worthy of a poor woman

who loves with every fragment of her heart,

who burns for him, who trembles and sacrifices,

whose devotion cannot die, whose love outlives herself.

And love is the cruelest luxury,

the most beautiful curse

that ever laced itself into human veins.

 

So let him live, Lord.

Let him live forever in your arms. 

And as i glance up at heaven as i reach my doom;

I shall send a kiss.