Altar

Altar

So this is what it's like.
Complete worship.
On my knees behind her
and I believe. Oh faith,
to be trusted..
This could be my church.
It's divine in some way,
sacred...
this body, these curves, and
I feel
some awesome
combination of
desire, admiration
and jealousy
as I slide my hand under
her skirt
(here, hold this will you?
It's in my light, thanks)
and find the satin strap...
God! Such a small piece of fabric!
I hook it carefully
to her thigh-high stocking,
the seam running straight
and smooth down her leg.
Oh my breath catches,
watching her hands lift her skirt.
To breathe would be sacrilige.
Clasping the other garter,
I try not to breathe at all,
my eyes following the bend
between her thigh and her
bottom (there, that's it) trying
to keep the emotions
from my eyes as she turns,
this little pixie, smiling
she says, "thanks" and I
am still on my knees,
praying.