Written By Elis Akas.
She said to meet at the church, as usual.
I was walking in haste not to be late and darkness was shaken off my route as I was approaching. Before I realized it I was rolling my tongue around my mouth like a hungry carnivorous beast almost able to smell my prey in the distance. My way was lighted by my craving. My eyes were shining upon my steps. They have been marked on the soil by now. I came every time. My resistance was futile. I was practically living for that. I found the courage to admit it in confession the other day. The priest blamed me of blasphemy and told me to kneel down and pray under his rochet and beg for God’s forgiveness.
When I was down on my knees I could see what God meant, when all I could view with my eyes was closed was the navel at the center of her belly and me kissing, sucking and licking it until I am between her legs with my head blowing up babbling lies about heaven. I’ve reached it when I wait fo her to breathe after we’ve climaxed together and then I can finally let go off the breath I had been holding onto since she unzipped my pants.
She had lit up all the candles and, as I was closing the heavy metal door of the church behind me, I fixed my eyes on her. She was walking towards me and heinous fervor surrounded me. We walked down the aisle and she led me to the nave. In the blink of an eye we were both naked and gasping aggressively on the ruby carpet. Her breaths on my ear were all my prayers to the icons of Virgin Mary. When she stared into my eyes aroused and sweating profusely by Her grace, I dread because clarity stared at me in the face through the eyes of somebody else. She stretched her hand to hold on from a pew to bear the pain I was causing inside her body, swallowing the instinction from my mouth, dipping her tongue further into it. I had become the incense in her censer again. I have made myself a creed assassin to all the choices I thought I had. I was committing sacrilege to the sanity line in my head without a second thought. My bliss was sprinkled with lunacy every time I was deeper inside her.
The spasms on her mindriff were giving the middle finger to the halos, the bigots, the acolytes and the aureoles for daring to think they could denote the sacredness of a temple. It’s meaning wasn’t discovered until my middle finger dug into between her legs and the cholister spread the word with his verses to the world. This is the holiness believers were seeking. Our hypnotic intimacy forced them to whip themselves to atone for their sins but they only managed to bleed while feeling aroused. When we are finished and she smokes just to pretend she has a choice on what I going to hurt her, I cry for more so badly that an offertory is held to save my life. I’m losing hope she will get dressed and disappear so quickly it’s not even funny for a child parable anymore. I am a foolish proselyte for anything she offers. Her arms, thighs, breasts, lips. I’ll even settle for a blink.
My mind, my entity, my eyes awash in a candle’s glow whose flame extinguishes on my skin, as she wants us to remain naked and tangled up for more. Never before a heathen has been crucified by a missionary with such eagerness.
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