Her Holiest Altar

By Julio Espin

Sweet seductress,
I’m daydreaming of you.
And like the spider to the fly, what you say isn’t true,
but to press against your flesh is all the truth that I need,
coupled with affection
that serves as a smokescreen.
Crawling on all fours,
like an exile drawn to water.
My tongue seeks to pray
at your holiest of altars.
And there, amidst the euphony of lovers entwined,
we may just find
the god they’ve sought
this whole time.