drmstream[writing]

T’s com­mu­nion When I go to com­mu­nion hold my hand. The change in the air, The rus­tle of the heavy clothes, The scuff of shoes against the pol­ished slate, The soli­tary cough, The clap of the wood boards against metal stays, The mumur­ing up ahead, The swollen rota­tion of the bel­lows, The still­ness of the lift, […]