She dealt her pretty words like blades of grass

Church Crush #2, October 28, 2019

Church crush #2 walked out of his pew 
And three rows up 
To shake my hand 
And to say, 
“Peace be with you.” 

He was wearing khakis and a gingham shirt, 
Tucked in, 
Plastic glasses, 
And navy blue tennis shoes. 

I have only ever admired him, 
His schnoz, 
And his sidepart 
From the right side 
Or from behind walking back from Lady Chapel. 
This was the first time I saw him from the front. 

From the side he looks like 
Owen Wilson and Toby McGuire’s son 
Who went to UMass Amherst 
And double-majored in American Literature and Comparative Religion, 
But from the front he looks like a heavily-dimpled Cillian Murphy. 

I have never seen him leave his pew to shake hands
And no one ever crosses the aisle to
Station-of-the-Cross XIII 
To approach the stoic witch 
In black 
Who doesn’t sing. 

But #2 must have prayed for courage 
And went out of his way
For me! 

Maybe we’ll meet at Contemplative Prayer on Friday morning. 
Maybe we’ll weed the church grounds together. 
Maybe we’ll grow old and entitled and wear hats and become Eucharistic ministers.
And hold court in the church hall.