Morning Service

We woke for morning service;
I said, “All rise.”
You and I stood in the altar
Of our private room;
You, in your yellow blouse,
Your blue shorts;
I in pants and a rough shirt.
I took you in my arms
And drew you closer,
Felt your arms surround me.
We held each other, held,
Oh, so tightly.
I breathed your hair,
Your breath on my throat,
And all the warmth
And gentle strength of you
Was mine. I was yours.
My arms were full—of life;
My chest was full—of love;
My body knew what yours knew,
That we were one, not two.
Minutes passed; I kissed your lips,
Drew all your soul out of your eyes,
As you drew all of mine.
You smiled; I smiled.
Oh, we were so divine
At morning service.

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