Oct 19 2005


Published by at 4:41 am under Poetry

by Sander Roscoe Wolff ©

He pulls her to his lips.
Flesh and blood stain them.

This time is sacred,
Filling a holy need.
This moment of surrender
As she bleeds.

Her flow enters him.
They burn without consumption,
A body of fire and energy.

God speaks
Through this burning bush,
This cavity.

She is the wafer and the wine.
The Eucharist made flesh,
The promise of absolution

Together they speak in tongues:
Wordless soundless sacraments.
They endure until boundless.


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