The Temple

When I worship
the temple enfolds me like a lover.
When I kneel
I feel as though I know my place.
I imagine Your face
favoring me with a glance.
I imagine that perhaps I have a chance
to be more than nothing to You.
I dream that the words in my mind
that will not ever stop
become replaced by Your words
and Your needs become mine.
I light incense that reminds me
of Your beautiful body scent.
I hold Your smile in my memory.
I am only free when I am Your slave,
how can that be?
This place is Your place that I made for You.
I worship here to expose and offer
my need to please You.
A small bell sounds to celebrate
the fact that You are near.
Please Dear Lady, use me
before I disappear.

(c) 2006, 2007 - william the submissive poet