My house is a church

Worship is laughter

Communion is the scent of rose with a hint of lonely

Brothers and sisters, come to the fountain of youth!

For we are young when we we allow ourselves our childish pleasures of animated movies and popcorn

Couch forts and slumber parties

Giggling in darkness

We are the new millennium, we are the triumphant

Our holy text is the light of a small screen

Our confession is salted with tequila and lime and 3 am

Our penance is the rawness of real emotion shared between those who haven’t acknowledged the burning camp of pain in their esophagus

Our saints are fingers adored in sterling silver, holding our hair as we expel our demons

Our pews are bed frames

The cross we bear is that of worth being defined by sexuality

Forgiveness is the broken back of the camel, slowly dragging us home and humming love songs

My home is a church

And you are welcome here