Holy Wine

by Chris Blanco

Love without touch extends instead a stare,
   Laps her quaint features with its thirsty eye,
   And conjugates thereby
Starveling desire with the goddess, Her.

Taste never was engaged, and seldom scent—
   Absent at last; but their tongued colloquy
   Makes pious litany:
Remove it and remove love’s element.

Subtract now sight and so the lover, blind,
   Archives her lineaments, assiduously
   Coded in memory:
The projected hologram hung in his mind.

Time recomposes memory: what then?
   Her ghostly icon soon begins to waver,
   Its transubstantiate wafer
Whispering over his lips, electrons of thin

   Air; a drifting, evanescent vapour:
The æther lifted from her holy wine.


Read by Sven Stauple. Previously published in a Via Negativa podcast.
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