The priest says,
“This is the body of Christ”
And I watch, wide eyed,
As my grandfather
Humbly accepts the offering
On his tongue.

I wonder what Jesus tastes like.

The priestess says,
“May you never thirst”
And I humbly accept the wine,
Transmuted into
The water of the womb
That held Jesus Christ
And I wonder
About Christ’s body.

I wonder about his sweat,
The itching of his brow
As it furrowed,
How his muscles strained
As he braided and brandished
A whip,
As he turned over tables –
Did his back hurt
The next morning?

I wonder if Jesus Christ
Ever got a blowjob –
Or gave one –
And whose name he called out
When he came.

Did the body of Christ,
This Word made Flesh, swear
When he stubbed his toe?
Did he get allergies?

As his body bore witness
To its crucifixion
Did the wounds weep
For the cruelty of it all?
Did his heart ache for Mary?
As she watched him die,
Did she feel a phantom kick in her belly?
Did her womb cry out for its fruit?
Did her heart shake in her chest?

Did anyone tell her,
You shall thirst for justice
No more?”

And on the third day,
Did he bid her
With his

Did her wine taste sweeter
That night?

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