Personified Prayer

I’ve found eternity In the magnitude of you, in the Pacific Ocean that is your sexuality, and the fortress of your intellect. Hyponitized by the tempo of your arching back, slipping and falling into feverish dreams of happiness ever after. Those lips of yours. Seduction deeper than an ego, I’m infactuated by your demeanor. By the wisdom of your eyelashes when we make eye contact on simple hellos. Since when have you been in my dreams? Lady, you are a prophecy covered in the sex of a rebellion. A revolution will not be televised. Written about in the books of urban prophets? Most likely. The way you speak, like thunder and cataclysm makes my body shiver. Makes my lip quiver. I’ve never known a person who spoke like Rapture, dressed like the Wind, and looked like, like you. Your a personified prayer, amen must be part of your heritage. It must be you. Like pointing to the Kaaba. It must be. Like Revelations. It must be you who I’ve dreamed of since my baptism. 

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