When I saw him, I knew
I saw it in the curves of his body
The sparse facial hairs, too few
And the silent fear coiled around him

Tight, tighter, tighter
I knew it by his walk, shy beat of
Soles on pavement, lighter
Whisper of soft gentle tread

But most of all it was his eyes
That proved his divinity
And told me of his demigod insides
He was metamorphosis in progress,

As rare and precious as ancient things go.
I should fear a god in the flesh
But how can I when that flesh is so
Inviting?

He’s always welcoming me, pulling me in
Hands on my wrists, drawing them closer;
To the round apple-glow cheeks, original sin
Over his shoulders, down his arms

The slip of waist, flare of hips, meat of thighs
To the core of him
He opens for me with man-made sighs
Traces me with blood-tipped fingers

Opens wide and consumes me
I fall to him, worship his loaned legs
And kiss the starry swell of his knee
I breathe the prayer of his name into

Red lips, parted and wet.
I am prostrate at his altar,
Anointed by his sweat,
Priest of a new religion

And every night I fuck him to sleep
I wake up singing
God would weep, God would weep
And he does.