All of Your Being Belongs

You don’t have to be a statue made of stone,
Or a saint in silence walking all alone.
You came to feel, to burn, to bloom,
To turn each touch into a healing room.

No shame in the warmth you crave,
No sin in the way you ache —
For skin on skin, for breath in breath,
For kisses that undo your death.

All of your being belongs,
Your longing, your love, your hunger, your tears.
You’re not too much, you’re not too soon —
You’re the rising sun, and the pull of the moon.
Let it in — the fire, the fight,
You’re still the heat I’d stay for.
You’re still the heat I’d stay for.

Your body’s not a trap, it’s a sacred song,
An instrument where wild truth belongs.
So don’t you flinch when you need embrace,
There’s power in the way you take up space.

Ask your heart, “Does this love who I am?”
The voice, the body, the flame, the plan.
Is it born from strength, not fear?
If yes, my dear… you’re still sincere.

You can want, and still be wise.
You can touch, and still rise.
Your path is not a narrow gate —
It’s love, it’s trust, it’s conscious fate.

All of your being belongs,
Your touch, your truth, your trembling spear.
Not less holy, just more real —
You’re the one who dares to feel.
Let it in — the raw, the right,
You’re still the heat I’d stay for.
You’re still the heat I’d stay for.