He only knew her by the broken glass in her hands.  They ate of the plain bread. Drank of the new wine. Yet still felt empty. Thirsty with an over flowing cup. We find ourself at the dinner table ample opportunity. Not blinking as they're realizing they're missing a guest. Eyes over the toilet bowl, bending over it's depths. Nothing can drown out the sound of a holy communism. Blade meets flesh, young girl at best. Her true colors vibrant in her lubrucated eyes. God where are you. But everywhere. Tunnels flocked with paper cats, no stones here.