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.

 

 

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