Whispering blasphemies as I sink my teeth in her skin. Baby's first sacrifice, pliant and pure, perfect to redeem my sins, even if that sin is love. Her wool soft and clean, not a stain in sight. Hymns leave her holy lips as I devour her faith. Tan skin silky under my grimy hands, tainted with temptation. Gripping her cross that tightly hanged from her neck as pleasure coursed through her veins. Puppy licking her tears away, praying they were of joy and not regret. Either way, why would I complain? I'm only but a dog in her heavenly presence. I don't deserve to know the taste of her. I shouldn't know the way her curves feel. I'm not supposed to know the way her soft gasps and moans sound. Yet she somehow found me worthy of her vulnerability. Worthy to bring love and passion in her dull and pure life. And even if she didn't find me worthy, I would stay by her side like a loyal mutt. Collar hanging loosely on my neck, her name engraved in the leather. Her hands gentle as she clipped it on, murmuring how pretty I looked with it on. How ironic, a mutt belonging to a perfect sacrificial lamb. Oh, how painful her love is.
