LITERARY | AM I GUILTY AS SIN?

If ‘us’ was an imminent sin, I would crucify myself for you.

Sheets still covered in the paints of his scents, and I'm addicted. It was past midnight and he just left from our bed to theirs. Abandoning the pledges of pillows our interrupted intimacy made, oh, how it takes my sanity.

Am I allowed to cry?

Perhaps, I am, but all tears seem to have dried. As I stare blankly above the ceiling of the suite you booked, I can't help but to think: Are we even a couple?

In this era where rainbows can shamelessly show their hues, can we be the pride?

Maybe, we can't. I've cracked open my closet, while yours is locked by a vow. I am loud and proud, while you type in lowercases of lust or love—I know you're confused.

What if I roll the stone away?

Would the probability of us being more than bed buddies win?

If the dice says 'we' would you throw away the ring?

If I trade all my jacks, would you draw the queen you kissed?

If I sip your snake's venom, would you break the bond of priest?

You know, you've written 'mine' on my upper thigh,

and it's not just on my mind.

Alone together, discreetly we do it.

I loved it, but I wish I was the one you've written 'mine' in front of the shrine.

But how can I be guilty as sin?

If all I ever wanted was 'us' in the altar?

Exchanging vows instead of moans inside the restricted heaven. Would you want to think it through, that we use diamond rings instead of rubber shields?

Not to make love in a suite, but in a home of sinners that I long for.

Maybe, religiously, we can't choose to launch. But if the way you hold me, was the only holy—

Please leave the Bride of God, and walk to hell with me.

Now, I admit. I am guilty as sin.... But I want you—

and they're gonna crucify me anyway.