Poetry by Rowan Evans

You are my religion—
The dogma that guides me,
A goddess of flesh and fire.
I carve devotion into my bones,
Letting your name echo like prayer.

Bring me before your altar.
Lay me bare beneath your hands.
No saints shall save me—
Because I crave no salvation.
Only the divine ruin of your touch.

I am the sinner, the sacrifice,
A trembling psalm on your tongue.
Kneeling in reverence,
I worship the shadows you cast.

The candlelight quivers,
Wax bleeding like sin.
I burn in the glow of your judgment,
Begging for the absolution I do not deserve.

Baptize me in your darkness.
Drown me in the gospel of your skin.
Let my body become scripture—
A testament to the sacred and profane.

And when the night swallows us whole,
I will not pray for forgiveness—
I will pray for more,
For in the church of you,
There is no greater goddess than desire.