i. amo

i drained the plastic cup too fast

to quench the august afternoon

remembering the august morn

when (for two hours) i sat with you.

cool, your words drenched and fell

on infatuated ears,

off the table, evaporated

you left.

but i though we could re-enact

our sentimental, seated dance

i thought, but then i never asked

you

twenty ounces didn't last

as long as i'd wished them to.

ii. avatar

from a chrome ceremony

next' bicubic glassy glow

flittering in bright-eyes blinking

flirting across the room

and

against the glass

shattering incandescence

reflecting on the vanity

of khaki shawls and earth tone-sneakers

clinking cups

and sounds of lips

sipping

drenched, and dripping

with liquid decadence

dharma evident in air

and smells

iii. eucharist

every time we are, it is

every place we go it sits

(departing) every time it rests

and waits a day for our return

in this place, every friend

a delicately made vessel

the meal isn't on the plate

but in eachother

common room confessional

and sometimes-chapels in our chairs

with cups that sip away our sins

and bread to eat away our fears

you and i are all we need

and it is here, amen

amen.