Job 1:21 (the part the bible never mentioned)

Sometimes I think that God is all I have,
but I thank God all the time for what I have.

He blessed me with your flaws;
the same ones that I wake up to every morning
when we gaze out from my window at early dawn.
You bestowed upon me a renewed sense of faith,
and I kiss the lips of devout nature personified
because I found my blue moon standards
dwelling within your irises.

It makes me wish our night could last forever,
but I cannot stop a sunrise in the same way
that I cannot fight inevitability or comprehend eternity.

I find that my favorite place to incubate my kisses
is at the base of your spine, where I move to extract a sample
of the venom implanted deep within your soul like a spinal tap.
There are days when I press my lips to your forehead
and worry that the fever is rising; times when I can feel
the virus coursing through your veins like a death sentence,
but we always had an expiration date stamped firmly on our faces.

Sometimes I feel the velvet of your tongue
run over my cracked and dried lips as if I thirst for salvation
you are far too close(d) off to ever bring me.