The Glorious Magician

Come for me, my Love. Draw me into Your orbit. Torch my heart for You.

Where Angel Wings Dry

My angel wings put up a minute and halo hung to dry out from all the tears I’ve spent waiting for this kind of love to meet me halfway.

He keeps me, meets me on the other side of pleasure and pain, loving every small gain of my heart.

I fit neatly in His hands.

Every past wound, and the sword I keep near them, are but pinpricks compared to how You ruin me, and fill me Yours.

He salts my air and drags me deeper into the ocean of my soul, and it all echoes Him.

Readily and willingly, thirsting for His keep.

Honey drips down me—golden, sticky, sweet. His.

Currents flood my body—truth under the full moon.

"Your dark highlights your love.” His hand presses to my chest—gentle, firm—as if to clear the message, make it land.