How is it that I am loved?

How is it that I am eaten up each night by Your hunger?
That You have put into my arms
a lover
a man
a beloved
a god
a priest with loving sacraments
his robe coiled into a spiral containing You
and all the pieces of him I adore
all glued into me
into the Beloved ache of me
in the breathless face of me….

You ripped up my tent
and now I make tablecloths
from calico squares
hand-stitched charms of Love
over every foot-mark he makes.
I clamber over my likes and dislikes
to love him…
to cradle his head
under the lash shadow of my every blink.

My beloved
my side has a piece taken out
to accommodate your shape against me,
with only one foot
can I step into the world
the other is tied up
by a string embroidered around you.