communion

Communion

I live in a box

Full of yellowed papers

And a kitchen half-painted

Viridian green.

My little house

Always smells of your coffee

Because tea for one

Is lonely in the morning.

I draw the curtains sometimes

And crawl in that queen-sized bed,

Confessing all my secrets

Beneath our tent of sheets.

If they could bottle you

I would add a slice of lime

And drink you dry,

My Communion.

I come home each night

Carrying you across the threshold,

And we play hide and seek

From the world outside.

photo cred