I am a conspiring she-devil,
the physical embodiment of pious fear.
Make the arch of my back
the alter you worship at.
I am worthy of reverence
and the soft spoken words of generous desire.
I am pillow talk
and lacy edges of a baby blue negligee.
I am a thunderstorm in your belly.
I’m in power
on my knees.
I’m bringing down an entire dynasty.
I am worthy of reverence.
Take of my body
and find immortality in this moment.
© Laura A. Lord 2015