Several of these poems have won prizes in contests. This was one of them.
Communion
Stones line my
pockets
anchor me
On bad days
I roll the warm bits
of granite and marble
in my mouth,
taste the shape
of each word:
camphor, licorice, sweet
wintergreen
Good days
the rocks fire
red, fan to white heat, explode
shatter
splinter
those shards drag through
my stomach, heart, lungs slice
my throat rip
my mouth
and I tear
at my body
until the blood
of words splat
onto my notepad
Days
words don’t come at all –
those days I grieve
Those days the stones
hibernate
like frozen grapes
in the corners of my
coat
Those days
I wander by the stream
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