Your tongue recites psalms of biblical standards

that urge my tongue to follow.

Your glass eyes sparkle in the seams of my dreams

that force jealousy upon the stars that

twinkle and dwindle in the cosmos that illuminate the empty, lonely streets

of the labyrinth in my mind.

It's your touch.

It's your touch I must admit.

I must admit that I have never felt your hands

as cold as they did today.

I have never felt their gentle caress as sharp

as swords, eyes that pierce the veil,

needles that prick and pull the sensual

skin of any loved one like a

prelude to quarantining an

addict's addiction.

I have not felt the sweet stings of serene

stinging bees like I have tonight.

It's the same sting I feel from each commanding

grasp your hands bless on their counterpart.

Each holy prayer is left to tread behind

the grace of your touch that's captured

through our sweet kiss.

It's the essence.

It's your essence I must admit.

I must admit that the Devil in me

saw the God in you that created the essence

of our Genesis.

I have counted the blessings and have preached

lamentations due to our erroneous plight.

Our struggle of heaven and hell depict the

distance ensnared by the purgatory we

envision, our beautiful sight.

So here it is once again, where the Devil in

you meets the God in me that lets us see

how free we could be.

Revelations reveal related recollections of recalled

reality of angel and demon connecting as one,

our bond that lights the world through eyes of sun and moon so soon

we'll see that you, Darling Angel,

you speak my language.