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
