Tongue Work (Blasphemy Between the Sheets)

Preface: HIGHLY NSFW! I wrote this on a whim when I heard someone say ‘Sex is a religious experience’. I really liked that. The parallels drawn between something taboo (in this case oral sex), and something deemed proper and civilised (going to church). I donned my best Bukowski cap for this one and really enjoyed writing it… My wife however, regretted asking what I was giggling at as I typed it up in my Notes app. Alas I created 'Blasphemy Between the Sheets'. Or 'Tongue Work' as a sharper title.

they told me god

was in the sky

that I’d find him

on my knees

in pews

chanting guilt

and inhaling dust.

they were half right.

I found him alright,

but not in stained glass.

I found god

spread wide

in the sheets,

in the heat and sweat

of my woman

my atheist enabler.

no hymns

just hips.

no saviour

just that slick gospel

between her thighs

where I go

again and again

like a true believer

lost in liturgy.

I don’t want the pulpit.

I don’t need

missionary.

I’m the heretic

with my mouth open,

tongue out

like a serpent in Eden,

eating forbidden fruit

like it’s the last supper.

she shakes like a sinner

getting saved

for the fourth time in a row.

I lap it up,

sacrament by sacrament,

till she cries out

every curse.

never his name.

missionary

was never the path

that saved me

it was worship,

face first,

tongue praying,

mouth full of

amen.

hallelujah