panic: calm

our religion has a call and response

'i’m so sorry about everything'

'you don’t have to be sorry about anything'

sometimes we switch parts

but there is always sandalwood swinging between us

i walk through between around linoleum tiles

so white. sucking me in

i rub the relic of our religion

it is a wheat penny

fondling the stalks, think about america

it is wide and yellow, asleep and nothing

in my dreams there are vampires

they tell me i suck blood, i am a vampire too

no no, i say, i just drink ginger ale and eat gram crackers

in a recovery room with a dopey grin on my face

sucking that hard is against my religion

nobody has to be sorry about anything

i offer them ginger ale and gram crackers

but they think i should go to a vampire party instead

i politely decline and spend the rest of my dreams in bed