I might sin again.
His lips are my Achilles heel.
His body my muse.
His words are music to my ears.
And his touch is a chink in my armor.
Forgive me Lord, but I might sin again.
Last night was our communion.
A communion to rekindle an unlost flame
It burnt hotter, with blue and red flames
Mixed to create a short but unending ecstasy
Gripped with fear of our coalesce
Yet excited at the thought of a mini us
Guilty, yet justified.
Forgive me Lord, these words are my sin.