Worship by Jennifer Domenico

I’m not free to love her, but my heart says otherwise.
For a few perfect moments, she was my everything, but she was snatched away.
Devastated doesn’t begin to describe my pain.
Lost and broken, I turned to the one place that promised wholeness. In the years since, I’ve become an expert at handling grief, loss, and longing, and I help others find the redemption and peace I so desperately need.
In the most unlikely place, she appears like an angel. In her eyes, my soul is healed. In her arms, the belonging I chased for years is finally mine. The emotions I thought long dead, are reborn by her touch.
She becomes my church.
Her voice my choir.
Her love my mercy.
Her kiss my sacrament.
My altar is her body and I worship devoutly.
What we’ve done, what we will do, is wrong, but when she’s near, the rules are redefined. I lost her once, but this time, I’ll do anything to keep her.