The Holy Faithful

I know she prays to God like a little girl before
She crawls into bed and we worship,
Suspecting all the while that thundercloud rider has been holding out on us,
Displeased by her liturgy of moans as I rest in the paradise of her garden.
What have you denied her that she's pulling my hand towards her pleasures;
And what is it I lack that keeps her praying to you?

Author's Note

Ignore that copyright at the bottom; that's not true.

Reviews

[Melon Choly]

Wow dear, I LOVE this poem, so simple, yet it says SO SO much! Fantastic!