pouring the red liquid was just a little
too muchfor her to watch because
she knew deep down (too well) what it was.

it was his blood splashing all over the
floor, staining the pure white tiles and the
transparent glass that held it dearly.

she was told to sip from the cup.

this is my blood, which was shed for many
take this in remembrance of me.

a tear fell down her face for the words
said by the man (whose blood she drank)
the moments before his heart would stop beating…

the last drop stayed in the bottom of her
glass but the rest was tucked far down
into her heart, pumping now as her own…

then she took the bread (his body)
…his life now covered her own.

it was Him that God would soon see
when looking down from heaven upon her face
(of course you know we become what we consume.)

…and as she walked out the door,
the angels were smiling at the loose lace
and her lovely white shoes with only the
last drop of red liquid to interrupt the purity…

remember me, my Lord, with favor.