At Sunday Evening Mass

At Sunday Evening Mass

I try not to make it obvious that I'm looking at your
hands resting in your lap. Oh, they
are so like his (but he's not here...I miss him);
they could make even my hands look
petite. I won't look anymore--instead
I'll concentrate on ove of the servers (hey,
wait...I know him too. He's the one who's
always looking at me as I go into the classroom
that he's leaving. I didn't know he went here.).
I'll play tag with his eyes for awhile so you won't
notice that I'm occasionally glancing over
to your hands (oh, I wonder how they would
feel caressing the back of my hand...). "I confess
to Almighty God...."

This eye-tag ting is kind of exciting--
he holds my gaze and then turns away,
I hold his gaze and then turn away;
(How long could we hold the other's gaze
before we...oh, but he's probably a freshman.)
We're kneeling (I hate these rails; they're always
so uncomfortable). Our elbows touch
as we fold our hands in prayer. I can feel
the warmth of your body through the material
of your shirt. Do you feel the warmth of my
body?
"Take this...and eat it; this is my body,
which will be given up for you."

"This is my blood...it will be shed for you
...sins may be forgiven (that's right)
...Amen."

Now we are standing. (Will you take
my hand as we say the Our Father?
"Our Father who art in Heaven...
You firmly take my hand (and I'm in Heaven. I
hate people who take my hand lightly, holding
it as if they were picking up someone else's used
Kleenex, but you hold my hand as if I were
dangling off the side of a cliff and you didn't
want me to drop...but what's this trembling
I feel? Could it be that you, too, feel this wave
of warmth rising from your fingertips
and moving up your arm towards the rest
of your body?) ...lead us not into temptation...
(Do you feel the lightheadedness?
Don't pass out, don't pass out don'tpassout.) ...for
the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory I am yours
now and forever. Ah-men." You give my hand
one final squeeze before you let it go.
I turn to you. "Peace be with you." I shake your
hand. You smile. I smile. My heart races as my
mind imagines you and me...and those hands
("Bless me father for I have sinned...").

We go up for Communion. I can feel
your presence behind me.
With outstretched hands, I receive The body
of Christ" and make the sign of the cross.
"Amen."

"The blood of Christ." "Amen."
Your lips touch the chalice where mine
just did. As we kneel down agian, I imagine
our wine-flavored lips touching tenderly....

"Mass has ended...."
"Thanks be to God."
I leave before you can have a chance to talk
to me. I wonder if I will see you in the halls
tomorrow or some other day. (Will you remember
the touch of my hand or the communion we shared?)