Grace and Peace to you.
The Beloved says:
You are no lowly sinner, and no great saint.
Confess: you don’t even know the difference.
I don’t care. I only want you.
Your prayers are ordinary and distracted,
neither base nor lofty, and more for you than for me.
I don’t care. I like the sound of your voice.
Your desire for me is weak and impure,
but it is the heat of my lips upon your heart.
Your keening for me is the very song I sang you;
your love is mine, not yours, not yours at all.
But I don’t care. I only want you to return,
my heart in yours, my body burning inside yours.
I want you to take off your price tag and be mine.
Let this mountain rise in you, a thousand angels singing;
this bright sun burn within you, burn away your paper prayers,
until your shadow disappears and you are light, my light.
Forget yourself. I want you.
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