They wanted me on my knees,
but it was you I knelt for.
They offered me the body of Christ,
but instead I wanted yours,
finding that it sated and sanctified me more.
They told me about the One True Love,
and I thought I'd found it,
but it wasn't the one they meant.
They taught me of His suffering on the cross,
and I pictured you, laying back smiling
and crucified on a bed of daisies and dirt.
They wove a crown of thorns
and you mocked them
by wearing it at a jaunty angle.
They spoke of miracles
and I remembered the wonders you'd wrought
on my inexperienced flesh:
water into wine did not impress me,
and neither could slake my thirst as you could.
They made me learn the words of prayers I didn't mean
when all I wanted on my tongue
was you.
They talked about Heaven,
and I replied that I'd already been there.
They propagated shame,
but I could see you, radiant in your nakedness,
and I knew they were lying.
They damned
and you redeemed.
They brainwashed
and you gave back identity.
They demanded my faith.
In you,
I found something I could believe in.

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