Communion

these days my heart 

is always on the verge

of breaking in two

like communion hosts

dipped in wine 

once made sacred

once made divine

whales in baltimore

 *** 

they say trains sound like tornadoes, 

but sometimes, in Baltimore,

when my eyes were closed 

to the neon purple lights outside

my shadeless windows

the trains sounded more like whales

singing their songs

out into the darkness, 

keeping me 

awake.

and somewhere in Mexico

there are people

wide-eyed with want

watching whales flip fins in

Puerto Vallarta

wishing to hear them sing

as i already did. 

*** 

editing

some times i wish i could be 

the paper beneath your pen

you can tell a lot about a person in

that space between a period 

and a sentence's end, 

and all the times you erased

the thoughts you thought alone

in order to communicate

i understand the urge

i really do

but for once, let me be

the blank page upon which you fill

your random musings

unfiltered and true and flawed

the dusty window pane forming

the glorious kaleidoscope

of sun on a Saturday morning

in winter, when things

are chilled but not yet cold.