When we were young,
          my love for you was the apple I plucked
          from my holy father's garden
          to feed that wayward beast
          he had barred from his kingdom.

When we were young,
          you were the serpent
          that I welcomed into my Eden
          every night
          until my father banished us both.

When we were young,
          my willing flesh became your covenant,
          which you demanded be honoured
          within the temple of your sheets.

When we were young,
          you, my flesh-born god,
          helped me find religion
          in your copper serpent.

When I sinned against you,
          you spoke with a loud voice:
          "Redeem yourself
          by partaking of moonshine
          born of your labor
          upon my holy vine."

When we were young,
          I redeemed myself in your eyes,
         and you showed me that heaven
         was the feeling of you inside me.

Blessed were we who used the Lord's name
          in ecstasy.

We were young once—until we weren't.
           Because when I was young
           I thought myself yours,
          and you, mine.

But only one of these things
          were gospel.