A prayer.

Yes thee, with

a name for

eternity to whom

I address this prayer,

I'm addicted to you

my goddess

in a religion called

live

in a practice called

love.

Whispering almost

lisping,  with trembling

hands,  folded

fingers outline

a shadowed picture.

Despite your absence

your shade covers

my thoughts in

a heated embrace.

Dry dead skin

sweats ice, lacking

your radiation.

While,

melting

reading your words,

trembling  

hearing your voice,

shaking

seeing your effigy

my body is already in

transition.

Being it

my last longing,

devoid

of any pleasure,  and

only to prove my devotion

to thee, with

a name for

eternity to whom

I addressed this prayer,

I'm begging for your child.