The Black Napkin Volume 1 Issue 4 | Page 13

8

communion wafers

upon my tongue

and for the length

of two held breaths

i am forgiven

my throat is a shallow grave

of “no” and “stop”

whenever i try to spit it out

it lodges itself

there like a threat

to myself

anytime someone

tries to show me

i deserve to feel good

the best moments in my life

are the worst

both lust and regret

leave my tongue

slick with the same

taste

Illustration by Chelsi Rossi

Instagram: @_chiles