GRACE

Hail Mary, full of grace

(I was born on a Tuesday, so i waited in grace & patience for this temps de l'amour to open up a rift in time & space and allow heat to glow and lava to flow into rivenes and fissures, previously hidden from sight... I. Am. Alight. And have no desire to be put out.)

The Lord is with thee.

(With the correct amount of reverence I look up at you, towering above me like an inferno, I am Dante and Venus and Persephone...you are both my nemesis & my relief. I called to you in the depths of nights, so long, and now here you stand... above me, in all your glory. I am kneeling at the foot of your well. You offer your sacrament, you are dripping with need and pure  unadulterated lust...the sinner in me wants to submit not repent...) 

Blessed art thou amongst women

("...I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands upon me, who does not doubt my courage or toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman..." Anaïs Nin) 

and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus

(you do not wish to make a vessel of me, I am of no use to any vain or earthly desire in you to plant your seed in fertile soil... my womb is of little significance... all you desire is to touch the beauty that God intended as a hook in the action of co creating little baby Jesus's of the future... to harness that reverence and lose yourself in the pleasures of the flesh... I am more than simply a willing participant... I am awash...)

Holy Mary, Mother of God 

( I want you to worship at the cup of this, my alter, drink deep of the river that flows betwixt my thighs... I am open... wanting...minus reserve...and as all the best night time flowers do, as the darkness of desire descends, i emit the scentual blooms of the incandescence your ardour brings... Waterfalls have nothing upon you or I..as we cascade down, drowning out all that came before...) 

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death

(If God had not intended procreation to be used for anything other than making babies, then she never would have made it feel so earth shatteringly good... a design flaw in what is supposed to be an image of perfection. Technically we are sinners... That old Catholic guilt pecking away like sharp rapture at our broken souls, entwined, we lie empty, spent and glowing, full to the brim with reverence. That design flaw deep within my sex pulses as the contractions course through my being... If this is sinning then I do not want your prayers...all I seek is loves sweet release, as worlds collide... petite mort) 

Amen