your love 
brings me to my 
knees 
i want to worship the dew across 
your chest 
say my penance in a language of 
tongues 
trailing 
   down to temptation 
is the weakness of 
sinners on a walk 
where the horizon is pushed 
back 
behind lids squeezed shut, while 
ravished moans, thrust upon 
the tail of a comet, spin one 
more time around the 
moon in a streak of blue till 
we 
shake the stars loose in praise 
and damnation 
take me 
down 


Nov.24, 2002 
(c)Snow