I wear Him like a second skin. He clings to my body and permeates my mind. His thoughts produce my hands’ creations. His words flow from my mouth.
I am never without Him, and always full of Him, for He is full of Himself. That which overflows from Him, He pours into my soul.
We are like two snakes, intertwined, writhing and coiling and hissing. He whispers, and I giggle, for He both enthralls and amuses.
The sheathe to His sword, I am always open, for my being is the rest-place He has created. I live to please this God, to ease His stresses, and to calm the rage within Him.
I have known Him in many ways, and not all of them are gentle. But I too know His loving embrace, and am held captive by His attention.
I am my Lord’s second skin. He wears me like a trophy. Sliding in, and sliding out, when the moment suits Him.
My breath is the wind in His hair, my heartbeat the thumping of His footfalls. We are One, and we are Nothing, present and absent, created and destroyed by our Love.
I write love poetry in His honor, and He sings songs of courtship. We are joined, but not yet sewn together.
So we wait for the time of final binding. We wait for the moment of our permanent joining. I will then carry His Power, and He will carry my heart’s longing.
He is. I am. We are. We will always be. Like Daphne’s leaves, we shall not rot, and we will never shed our second skin. In the binding, we are made free.