The only crucification I acknowledge is you pinned down to bed frames and mattresses as I speak ancient tongues into your aura. Stigmata princess, this is my favorite sacrifice. My reverence. I have carved your body like marble into the pantheons of my mind. I could find your spot in darkness, blindfolded in a sense deprivation room. Queen! I said you are queen, I am not a farmer. I am not a frightful man. Gods don’t make me tremble. I have no need for the afterlife. I will enjoy the present. And in this moment. You. Glistening like rivers in the summer. I have never known the taste of queens. I have never known the taste, but since I’ve had you and tasted your ambition I know the truth of time. Feed them crumbs, but feed me you.