O sacrum convivium [after Thomas Talls]
At the banquet table Christ will bite his lip
while I chew the burnt meat from the bone,
I will search out the rib meat, I will ingest
the power of the rib into my own
flesh, I will become Adam in the darkness.
Christ will reach for my hand at the banquet
table, he will press his bony fingers into mine,
taste the soft puckered skin at my wrist,
feel the veins bubble beneath my gooseflesh, watch
my blood as it pounds through my body,
through my chest, Christ will put his mouth
on mine at the banquet table, his lips will
kiss my eyelids, my cheeks, jaw line
and my breasts, his teeth will tear
at my nipples; he will be hungry for me
at the feast table, the mutton and cakes
will not satisfy his appetite after centuries
of celibacy, with me his truths will
be revealed and when I kneel down
before the holy trinity it will be to not only
receive pleasure, but to give it in return.
When my lips press into the deep purple color
of Christ's erection it will be in desire
that he cries out, not pain.
I will taste his semen in my mouth;
we will both be delivered.