Of

The canvas is blank
As the pen, the brush, the will of God
Kisses its surface
My eyes follow with delight
Not knowing where to go
Where the words will lead
But there is a quiet eruption going off
Not so silently, in my chest
The blood warms my body
Your scent intoxicates
As my eyes roll back in my head
I breathe you
And you me
Our union is that of God
Perhaps the sole reason we were
Created to begin
That is the excitement of writing
Of breathing, of eating, of being
Of living
Of loving

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