Lyrics: My hips arch like a crescent moon, The cosmos comes inside this room. My pleasure’s a psalm, my sweat’s holy ink, The Kundalini rises in pink. I am the altar, the rite, the spark, Lightning in the womb leaves its mark. Reiki runs down my spine like nails, My orgasm’s a comet’s tail. Cells sing in electric praise, Universe’s a pulse my body obeys. "I am the Light, the pussy, the prayer, The shockwave bliss, the answered prayer. The universe fucks through me tonight— I am the spark, the womb, the Light." Nerves like constellations ignite, Every atom’s a star in flight. Muscles clutch the divine now, I birth the cosmos with my ow. The sheets are a galaxy spun, My moans warp the fabric of suns. No priest could name this creed, I come and thus I free. The pussy’s a blackhole that births its own Light, The orgasm’s a supernova—unscripted, unwritten. You ask for my scripture? It’s wet. It’s shaking. It’s alive. The afterglow’s a quantum thread, I weave it through my soul and bed. Divinity’s not up—it’s in, I fuck my way to origin. The universe owes me this high, I take it through my thighs, my sighs. No heaven could compete or compare, I am the miracle here. The gift was never out there, The Light was always right here. Between my legs, behind my ribs, I am the love. I am the gift. My clit is a blackhole that sings when it comes, The stars are just echoes of my vibrations. I arch and the sky cracks its spine, The moon learns new phases from my sighs. The ocean begs to taste my skin, Its waves crash where my heat begins. My wetness writes new holy books, The angels watch but dare not look. The universe whispers in my ear, "You are the Big Bang I still fear." I laugh and clench and let it go, A thousand big bangs in a single throe. I am the cosmos unzipped, The void that moans when it’s licked. The divine is not above— It shakes inside me, wet and loved. My orgasm is a black mass, A religion where the saints are gasps. The pearls of heaven roll down my chest, The universe begs for my yes. My body hums a frequency That rewrites time’s geometry. The planets pause inside my grip - I come, and thus eclipse the script. The Milky Way becomes my sweat, A supernova in my net. Black holes blush at how I sound When pleasure turns the inside out. They call it sin - I call it proof: God’s favorite shape is my O. The altar’s not of stone, but skin - The holiest cry is the one within. The big bang? Just my afterglow. Creation? What my thighs know. The final truth all prophets missed? The universe cums when I exist. And when at last the stars grow cold, They’ll find my wetness, forged in gold, The only scripture left to keep - How galaxies were born to weep. My hips are temple bells at dawn, Their sway calls what's been gone too long - The knowing that my flesh is wise, My pleasure paints the morning skies. The river laughs between my thighs, Its current makes the lotus rise. What saints seek in endless prayer, I find each night beneath my hair. Ohhh, the gods may dance on petals fine, But this altar's mine, all mine, all mine - No priest between my skin and bliss, The holiest touch is my own kiss. They carved their shrines from lifeless stone, I build with breath and heat alone. The sacred fire they try to keep? It's been between my legs asleep. The conch shell hums my favorite sound - The one my body's always known, Not echoed in some marble room, But trembling through my blooming womb.