First piece here in awhile.
Just sort of popped out of nowhere.
Crit for crit.

Her locks only made entrance more appealing, but she could never wait at the gate like she was taught. Handing over her keys, and sacrificing her dignity to the ego and vanity of the god fearing boy.
She's his toy.
He's a toy to his imagination.
Her pleasure, his bread and beads.
They feast like they've been starving for weeks.

Both blind, on knees,
Pews and secrets between.

She realizes that she's forgotten who she was,
But she's forgotten to realize who she left with the keys.
The boy who believes in living life on your knees.