The secret

I kissed your lips and my death began.
I am a little less each day.

I cannot eat or drink;
  I am fasting.
I cannot rest;
  I hold vigils.
I beg you for a single glance;
  I am praying.
I give you everything I have;
  I pay alms.
I cross the world to see you;
  they call me pilgrim.
I sing your praises always;
  I am a teacher.
I hang on your every word;
  I am a disciple.

The wiles of your beauty have taught me well:
Love is the secret of religion.