*CATHOLIC FUNK*

We sang and rasped and coughed
As the communion touched our sterile tongue
My heart uncoiled and fell
Like notes from a drunken guitar
We breezed away from the priest
And held on to our saintly robes,
The darts swirling in our clenched fist
Like immiscible fluids
Then an hymn blared from the cubicle
With voices like whispers from gossiping angels
"It is well with your soul"
As if answering death, I whispered, "Me?".

_Happy sunday_
*©The Ghostwriter* 👻