Our days of rest are passed in silent prayer
Before the promise of our teenage courtship
Convinces us to do away with care
And sees us come together, lip to lip.
Within his bed and veiled in whitest sheet,
Our hidden love evades forbidding eye,
As I anoint and humbly wash his feet
With fragrant oils and cleansing tears I cry.
My fellow lamb, his arms I spread and tie
In imitation of our shared belief.
Before his steeple falls, he heaves a sigh
As his frustration ends with sweet relief.
And yet, despite the love I give him freely,
I have no faith that his love will redeem me.