so, the party is in full swing. everyone is having a good time. the music is rocking, the booze flowing and the smoke billowing. i’m playing a game of acid chess with a hot italian chic. it involves no pieces and no board and i think i’m winning. everyone is having a great time, that is until he shows up.
“oh fuck!” i hear someone mutter and i look up and there he is, surveying the revelry. you can feel the atmosphere drain from the room. most of us try to pretend we haven’t seen him, but it does no good.
“quiet everyone!” he shouts, “there’s something i need to say.” as the sound dies down, a few eyes roll as we reluctantly look his way. “i just want you all to know that i love you. all of you.” there is a general murmur and a few ‘thanks mate’ and ‘that’s nice’. hoping that’s it, everyone tries to get back to the fun, but i’ve been here before and i know there’s no chance of that, not now. “excuse me!” he barks, drawing all our attentions back to him,” but didn’t i just say something?” you can almost taste the collective sigh.
“we love to too man.” someone says and the rest of us nod and utter in agreement.
“well then,” he demands, “don’t you think it would be a nice idea if you all starting singing some songs about me, about how cool it is that i love you all so much?” everyone realises that this cunt is way too boorish to be ignored and somebody starts humming.
the italian chic and i sneak out the back, unseen, with a couple of others, and as we’re waiting for a bus she asks me “who was that asshole?”
“oh him,” i say, “that’s god.”
That you would make me watch
as you pleasured yourself,
knowing that I could not,
is as beautiful
as it is cruel.
That you would enjoy
because of this,
is as mean
as it is sweet.
Making me turn my back,
so I can only hear
is a godly
as it is evil.
Why is it,
that God and Satan
are always portrayed
as two separate beings,
they would be worthy
of the worship they crave?
the kisses of your whip
are as sweet
as those from your lips.
the burning of my flesh
feels as good
as the vision of your breasts.
To see your breasts, I would steal,
To touch them, I would kill,
To oil them, I would take on armies,
To taste them, I would die,
And, to come on them, in Hell, I would happily fry.
Let me kneel before you in prayer
and worship at the gates of your celestial city.
Let me taste your divine sacrament
and feel your sacred eucharist wet against my lips.
My hymns will be your moans,
your carnal rapture my liturgy,
in praise of our holy communion.
and let me sacrifice myself
on the alter of your glistening, trembling thighs
and anoint you with my hallowed seed.
I want to worship you
And kneel before your dark, wet glory.
I want to lay you down
And spread you out
On my alter of lust.
I want for you to be my religion
My one true faith and angel of my desires.
I want to taste your holy grail
And drink your carnal wine
In our moments of love.
I want to sacrifice myself to you
And drown in your intoxication.
I want feel your body rock,
tight around my neck as you explode.
I want to devote myself to you
And write your beauty as scripture
And for beauty to be defined
Your name alone.