Glass Maven

Perfume still on the glass your relic in my chest I confess,

I built

a statue out of cold and calm and

breath

I kept your aftertaste

underneath a veil of clean put your name on the hit list

then locked you in my dreams My flesh knew your gravity

before my rules could speak one whisper through the velvet and the

stone went weak I wore my savage quietly jaded,

dressed in gold switched the fever off in public kept the embers

in my throat But your touch had deeper access than my limits

ever guessed you came back dressed as history with a bruise beneath

the blessed

So I wrote it on the altar called it debt,

called it owed I could stand on mountaintops and still feel you

in my bones The fantasies went deeper than the lie I could

confess I could turn myself to marble but the marble wanted rest

You

are

not my religion but I kneel where memory starts

hands above my head

with a furious heart

Crucify the wanting then forgive it in the dark we dance in

private theater velvet nights and hollow sparks No throne,

no crown, no ceremony still you carve me into gold still you

move me like a hymn with the pull I can’t control

I kept the king in silence left the crown behind the veil

made a saint of my composure so nobody saw it fail Then

your kiss returned like incense not gentle,

not erased a flash of pleasure burning with the ache beneath the

lace I needed you to leave me clean as glass,

cold as proof then your mouth became the threshold and my body

knew the truth

There were stones inside devotion there was fever in the hymn there

was red beneath the ritual where the pleasure started dim If this

is the altar why does it burn?

If this is the icon what did I earn?

If I am the statue why do I breathe?

If I am the relic why can’t I leave?

No saint comes clean no velvet stays pure no kiss this deep

leaves the body sure I feel the transformation old flesh breaking through

I was holding all the embers now the embers answer you I

was defiant at the threshold cold enough to wear the flame then

you touched the hidden marble and it answered to your name You

are not my religion but I know the sacred rite where a

touch becomes a relic and a kiss becomes the light Crucify the

wanting then forgive it when it stays I was strong again then

you made the fever blaze

Perfume still

on the glass

your relic in my chest I confess,

I built a statue out of cold and calm and breath You

were never mine to hold but you never fully left just the

dark coming

back with devotion

on its breath