Communion

Everybody else in the yard sings Don’t Stop Believin’
though they don’t know the words.

They are looking for the magic.
We are all looking for the magic.

Some find it through drugs, or religion,
some through art, some
sports or music.
Some through love.

Wings aflutter, alone or together,
we are all beating
our way up to God.

The Summer air is charged
with static electricity
or maybe it’s streaming
through my veins.
Touch ignites my skin.

I can never tell if the spark
comes from me or the girl.
I guess we made it together.

A flower petal drops into
my glass of water and
I drink it up.