Transubstantiation - Poem by Braden Coucher
The glass walls, covered in stained art,
Upheld with fishing line freeze.
The ceiling, a cloudy sky, fills with locusts, blackbirds and a big book.
The letters from the pages fall like feathers,
We catch them in our mouths, swallow.
The three people in the room transfix, all in love with one
Another. A skylight of paper and a single light
Sinks into the stratosphere, slow as a tortuous returning
To the sea, the fold. All this communes in the eye of a hurricane,
Outside of it a glacier sinks. Below that, hydrogen;
Nothing but hydrogen forever. The hurricane,
The triangle of eyesight cancels everything
Out, all that was and ever will be.
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