You can be sure to get your October off to a lovely start when you read this poem from Blood Sisters of the Republic, the debut book of poems from Wendy Willis.
I offer you my hands—bony and blue-veined,
brittle but skilled at stitches and picking up tiny
beads from polished wood floors. But maybe
you need broad palms blistered and rough
from an honest day’s work.
I offer you sugary confections made at midnight
from coconut stashed in hidden cupboards,
spiked with Frangelico. But maybe
it’s steak you crave—bloody, dense
smelling still of prairie grass and dust.
I offer you my tangled hair—a veil
entwined with birds’ nests and tales
of the inky night. But maybe
you lean toward the day—shorn &
gleaming & featherless.
I offer you this Eucharist.
Take and eat. But you,
a bored congregant, devour the host
without lingering over a moment