Communion is often described as a holy act to commemorate the joining of an individual with the ‘body’ of Christ. There is a dissolving of boundaries and a moment of bliss that comes with truly enveloping oneself in the energy of a higher being, whom (or what) ever that may be. Ironically, where people give a pass to drinking and eating in the name of faith, lovers are condemned. Although lover’s do not drink each other’s blood or offer body for hors d’oeuvres, there are innate similarities in how lovers and sinners show their admiration. The communion at an alter, at a table, in a bed, all share a joining of emotional, spiritual, and physical bonding.
As you watch “Communion”, I challenge you to blur the lines between sanctity and singularity. After all, faith is based on a relationship, one that cannot exist without love.
the poem
There is a soft lava
seeping into the
cold places in my thighs.
Hot with curiosity
as to how you pull
water out of sponges
without squeezing.
Droplets, gather and pool
like rain on slick surface,
you rained me on myself
and gushed sounds
into my mouth.
Ruptured in rapture
and I hope the angels
don’t find us.
Mi Atashino
born in miami, florida to jamaican parents of mixed heritage, mi has navigated the world through the cultural lenses of both islander and mainlander. after moving to atlanta in her pre-adolescent years, she discovered the escape in reading novels and crafting her own stories to help cope with the stark discrimination she began to experience. as she reached adulthood, she abandoned writing for other practical job titles, only to find her heart remained in the un-smeared ink of her pen. recommitted to chasing her dream of becoming a poet and a writer, she addresses the intricacies of moving through life as a multicultural woman in the midst of misogyny, heartbreak and healing, spiritual awakening, and racial tensions.
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