Mary, stay here.
Be my neighbor,
the one I overhear
through my wall.
Watch the streetlight
echo past your curtains,
touching the side of your face
you lent a man to hold.
How was the feeling?
When his palm
made love to yours,
a secret only between you two.
I heard you, Mary.
Your sighs.
Your cries.
Your private revelations.
My heart was enraptured.
I quietly expressed
what I’ve hidden
for the day we meet.
You’re God’s first love.
He created you
so the world would overindulge
instead of Him.
Mary, I want to listen
when you’re devoted
to your mind and body,
glorifying your allure.
Appreciate your own beauty,
your heavenly breaths,
the months God spent
shaping every cell within.
He has heard your prayers.
There are no sins.
Your innocence is a permanent
gift that pleasures cannot replace.