... communion ..., ... God ..., ... life ..., ... love ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... religion ...


i would hope to partake of
a piece of you in your presence
and acquiesce to my vampire
roots – to sip the blood from your
very veins, wiping my chin
on your collar as i
pull away, ignoring that
awkward moment, i
dab the blood
from your

to take part in your flesh would
be a cumbersome task that
i would not shrink from
your skin and bone
muscle and sinew
laid perfectly
between two
slices of

our eyes would meet as each morsel
was eagerly swallowed. my life extracting
life from yours.

alas, it is a hopeless whim
that i amuse myself
with in secret – of course –
as i crunch through
the languid cracker
and lukewarm
grape juice
served, by men,
before me.

there is no life left in these Sacraments.

your flesh simply flew away, and i’m
left to love on
an empty


6 thoughts on “communion

  1. Sonny says:

    Communion has unfortunately become a noun… a passive verb at best… as your poem notes, crackers and lukewarm grapejuice. The metaphorical partaking of flesh and blood, the urgency, the need, the poignancy, the consuming and surrendering, have become lost on many. I love the images here. They do justice to the very active verb communion… intended as both a Christian sacrament and a very real human longing.

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