Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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Sunday confessions, cat

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Each bead

thumbed in reverence

not with prayer

but with each burning desire

that begins

with your name.

.

Sunday

kneeling

wafer upon my tongue

a prayer in my head

as I imagine your taste.

.

These days

he becomes the starting

and ending words

of my Sunday confessions.

.

No sooner have I confessed

and repented

than he has me on my knees.

Sinning.

Again.

Each defilement

glorious

violent

and dark. 

.

Confess to me.

Satisfy your sins

along every silken inch of skin.

My curves

your path

of destruction

of salvation.

Amen.

:

*Another instalment in my Sunday confessions.

©SirenSong1208

Photograph taken from Pinterest