Reverent

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 fingertips
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.

All encompassing.
Swallowing.

I am worthy of reverence.

Take of my body
and find immortality in this moment.

© Laura A. Lord 2015