Communion

Sometimes the closing of horizons
Is like the closing of a bedroom door
Gently, unspoken
pushed a little just so
The latch clicks.
A dark hall without
where no one waits listening in vigil,
But still whispering within;
a consecration when the curtains close
for the privacy of a greater unveiling
The body given to the Body
Commingled:
a kiss of peace,
the metaphor slightly confused.