Untitled Poem

Untitled Poem
by Kathryn Novelli

Yes. Spit plays a part.
Saliva lubricates the mouth
that spins the smooth silver words they swoon for.
They’re swaying, praying.
The holy communion between their heavenly idol
and their collective lost souls
searching, searching, searching for understanding.
And he spit on them.
And they considered it a gift.

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