I Drank His Blood

2

I Drank His Blood

I Drank His Blood

Swallowed, wiped the corners of my eyes;
gazed up to see a painted ceiling, cherubs dancing, flowers, and painted skies. 
My body leaned on a wooden post as I heard woods, familiar;
spirits filled the church, vibrations felt inside of me as the organist played.

Earlier that morning a paleness grabbed hold and kept me cold, clammy, white – bloodlessness,
as if – life had been sucked out of me, someone said,
“Your skin appears a bit ashen . . .” 
After all, was said and done, in any event, the day went on.

God took up space as I drank his blood; bread stuck to the roof of my mouth. 
The thought of the dragon returned, as a room filled with peace became ungodly,
immoral, drowning the beauty and pulling me from reason
when I stood to pray.

A shade was pulled – back to the fabric of my life –
strong enough to shove you out of my mind, to waterproof my soul,
I was covered by a rainbow – a kaleidoscopic color – one which will not let in another squall,
nor drench my soul by the devil.

2 Comments
  1. Avatar of Joyce White
    Joyce White says

    Wonderful, I felt invaded by those spirits that leave you ashen and chili.
    I try to stay strong. Admire your strength and talent Nancy.

  2. Avatar of Nancy Duci Denofio
    Nancy Duci Denofio says

    Thank you so much for your time and thoughts Joyce! Sincerely, Nancy

Leave A Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish. Accept

Angie's Diary