i wonder if our souls
speak different languages.
would your soul
recognize mine?
i want to see yours.
i awake
with this desire.
in the stillness of the night
i let mine call out,
come to me”,
it says,
we can hold this,
we can love this

we eat
butter and marmalade
on toast
fresh from the oven.
i was told
is a destination
for the faithful,
but i lack faith
and always wondered
about those who believe
in the unseen.
if it isn’t here
and now,
if it isn’t fresh toast
and your attention given
to spreading butter
and marmalade
so perfectly,
i’m not sure where else
it could be.
i have faith in this,
i can reach out
and touch it.
if heaven is this place,
right here and now,
and is as finite
as one piece of
i’ll take it
and consume it,
salty butter
and sweet marmalade
and all.