breaking bread

What do we accept into our body, into our soul, when we ask for absolution?  Are we alone in that sacrament or does someone follow us into the pain of sanctuary?  Heather McCarty's poem, "Communion" asks us to delve into the darker heart of humanity during a moment of acceptance while David Moskos's artwork creates a visual map of the narrative's confused sentiment.

David Moskos

David Moskos


by Heather McCarty

Our hands bloom open to the
moon bearing
seeds of holy sacraments:

round disc floats like a
wafer pale
on some god's blackened tongue
(descend on us)

You said we'd be happy
together, and I hold hope in my womb
like a hard-boiled egg
that never comes to
we tilt our faces up to that
white flake and (cracked)
dream we
hold our own