Her body is passion. On the dancefloor.

Places like this where a kiss is not a promise,

Where two bodies melt into one,

Where one movement of her hips is heaven.

Here are our sacred virginal vows.

Here are our devout cries to God.

Here we confess to it all, teeth bared.

Here we are God’s children.

Our sins are beads of sweat that collect in the strands of her hair.

As her body writhes like a Devil snake,

She prays and prays and prays.