Empyrean bodies getting fcked against the mirror is my room with a view.
This is the god module.

We inject our selves with local anesthetic,
And lye crumbled and submissive just for a moment to cry a little, die just a little.
Lying together after love our half naked bodies lye stark under a sickly light,
And we shed salty wet into each others unwashed faces.
I kiss unmethodically and hope it offers you some consolidation to our poverty.
We think we disserve our freedom.

I kiss you on the forehead and speak solidly against your skin "God doesn't exist."
You stop crying and as your contentment becomes clear, I hope God is watching.