I'm taking you into places under my jumper,
I can't leave you,
I need your closeness.
But to have to be so careful is wearying and depressing.
I'm a spy
I don't belong, I'm changed.
Sometimes I long for the unknowing,
to go back into my cave.
But this sunlight,
it's brightness heals.
But also exposes.
Seated at a table with people I'm aching for,
longing to share tangible hope,
I feel like a pariah.
My enemy crouches in a corner licking his lips,
tentacles and chains,
unseen slime and shame,
daring me to say the name,
that would launch a landslide of derision.
I skirt around,
and talk about safe `religion`,
about buildings and choirs,
the safety of the `safe` believer,
nice, but sad.
Whilst you are clawing at my heart,
willing to really let loose,
mad with passion for you,
to say,
what I say when I'm alone with you,
and worse `tell`,
what you have said and say,
in our warm embraces.
About the freedom that comes with the deeper cleansing,
and the removal of the stain.
Of the tender, tenderest touch,
from One who is love,
and loves us?
For Christ's sake,
let it go!!
