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My body feels like church when you touch me –

all golden and holy

When you speak to me in your secret language,

I remember being outside with the fire, or perhaps

together in some deep red cave – just another kind of church

I do not know how to answer you

but I know what you're saying

It is already written on my bones

The risk is walking around with this much longing –

unmet and raw – so that God knows how to find me

So that I know, God is already here