The Thurible’s Soul
There is a boy
Whose face is long and gray
Olive green veins under his translucent skin
Flesh so dusty that it disintegrates into
Incense
The deacon swinging the thurible
His flesh
This mass
Seems so fleeting in the air of the church
As they gather for the sacrifices
His soul so feeble
So fragile
His blood so red
So deep under the tissue
It goes unseen beneath the lead-like organ
Lost between black and white
Kneeling in the pews
Brindled cheeks and ashy hair
Eyes so dim
The dark seems bright
Biographical Note: Stephanie Vu is an undergraduate English major with double minors in mathematics and history in the Honors College at George Mason University. She currently is working towards an Accelerated Master’s in Secondary Education (English). She is also a proud member of George Mason University’s English Honors Program.