I didn't know I could attend church more than once a month until 3 Sundays ago. I mean, who wouldn't turn religious for a tall, dark and handsome man with a sexy beard, pink lips and a killer smile. Perfection, damn!
I fantasized that he shared my feelings. To me his fingers always seemed to linger a bit and even brush my tongue and lips when he served me the Holy communion at mass, and I would almost melt under the heat of passion right there. His sermon always seemed to be prepared for me, eulogizing me. His smiles always appeared to be directed at me, even when he wasn't looking my way.
He started preaching "As a Reverend father, I..." My heart burned. I had always been aware of this sexless existence he had chosen for himself but a girl can dream, right?
'Turn to someone and tell them "I love you"'. Our eyes locked for a moment and I mouthed the words with all the ardour I could afford. My heart burned.
Mass is over. I am smiling sadly to myself now. I appreciate my twisted fantasy..what harm could possibly come from it?
Nice piece