Confessional #3

I’m in a towel,
after a quick shower,
at 4:30am,
thinking about you.

My thoughts of you?

They run wild and uncontrollable.

From a simple word’s
communication,
into much deeper
forms of merging
minds, bodies, and souls.

It is not sexual.
It is sexual.
It is not harmonic.
It is harmonic.
It is not devout.
It is devout.

It’s not the matter between two people’s blood that frightens me, but the escape of the soul from its headlong path towards God.

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