They say God is dead. I say God is reborn every single night whenever you make me scream his name.

You see, no religion is as good as ours. No prayer sounds as beautiful as your heavy breathing beside my ears, and holy water doesn't feel nearly as cleansing as your sweat on my body.

No god has ever felt as worshipped as I have in the moments when you breathe me in like a man who has been living in the desert and hasn't had a drink in years.

And no one has ever been as devoted as you are when you kneel between my legs and have a full conversation with my body without saying a word, when you bite the skin of my thighs and sink your teeth into me like you want to memorize how I taste.

You kiss me like I'm a goddess, your goddess, and what's between my legs is the altar you kneel before. And after all this time it's safe to say that the impression of your lips permanently burns at the meeting of my thighs.

You tell me I'm beautiful like it's a prayer that's overflowing from your lips, one that you can't contain, nearly accidental.

And when we're lying in the soft afternoon light after you've worshipped at my temple, I can feel your steady heartbeat against my skin and I finally know what Heaven is truly like.