Lindsey Schaffer

Baptism

We felt invincible.

Baptised by May showers
We ate stale bread
And drank cheap wine
by the curb
Of the neighborhood park

On hazy summer nights
We exchanged kisses
On rosy cheeks
Dare induced sacraments

We were the Saints
Who absolved one another
of our own sadness
night after night
With trembling fingers
and holy gestures, touch
expressed what words could not

Love
Was not yet in our vocabulary.