transubstantiation…

the words
of
the poet
become
more
than
vague
mental images
they
are
laughter
clearly heard
resonating
against
the walls
of life’s prison
they
are also
a lover’s touch
a salty tear
shed
with death’s
arrival
or
flesh
burning with passion
or
the scent
of fear
on a dark night
the smell
of
decaying bodies
on
the battlefield
or
children
crying
in the corner
of
an empty room
the flow
of
warm blood
from
a wrist
opened
to let
the evil out
lines
of words
and
carefully counted
syllables
rhymed
and
unrhymed
like
life

5 thoughts on “transubstantiation…

    • I love it, Charles. When I saw the title I thought that I wouldn’t have ever written a post about transubstantiation. I sure like how your mind works.

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