I want a love.
Not the kind that grazes the surface and leaves,
but the kind that kneels beside me when I am weary
and prays until Heaven bends to listen.

I cannot do casual.
I am temple.
I am veil torn and sacred ground,
the kind of woman you take your shoes off to stand before.

He honors my body like it’s scripture
and reads my heart like a psalm.
When I ache, he anoints me.
When he wounds me, he grieves within his own chest.
His remorse is a sacrament.
He repents with action, not words.

When our eyes meet, we speak fluently,
a language of gaze alone.
Silence between us is not empty;
it is soul-song,
love-making with no touch,
just spirits twirling like slow-dancing seraphim.

Even when miles stretch between us,
there is no distance in the spirit.
I still feel him.
Still hear the whisper of his covering in my ear.

Conversation ties us before the flesh ever tries.
Kisses stop time.
Hours collapse beneath the weight of our breathless worship.
Electricity envies our spark.
His hand in mine?
Heaven’s fingerprint in human form.

Every inch of me is discovered, not devoured.
Explored, not exploited.
He studies me with holy reverence.
And when we love, it is a worship service.
A praise.
A communion.
A whispered hallelujah between sheets and stars.

Ours is a Song of Solomon kind of knowing.
Where tongues blur between language and prayer.
Where climax and calling meet.
Love becomes altar.
Union becomes healing.
We become ministry.
Two breaths, one rhythm.
Exhaling as one name: God.

My mind is his undoing.
He feasts on thought, not just flesh.
I am his sacred weapon.
His softest war.
He delights in my intellect.
Worships the way I think before the way I move.

We finish thoughts like sacred echoes.
Not because we rehearsed,
but because we were written from the same verse.

I was never made for casual.
I carry covenant in my bones.
I am holy ground.
To be honored, never handled.

I was made for my best friend.
My lover.
My reflection in the Spirit.
I am his good thing.
He finds me, and favor.
He prays for me even now,
calling my name in tongues
I haven’t yet learned to speak.

“He who finds a wife finds a good thing, And obtains favor from the Lord .”

Proverbs 18:22 NKJV