Tolerance

I do not feel invited to the banquet

The communion rail is a fence you stand behind

Dispensing the sacraments, blessings and forgiveness

Your eyes grow wide as I approach

I see your tight smile, your upturned nose

The muscles in your neck flex

When you offer me the bread

Your hands tremble as my lips sip from the chalice

And I begin to doubt

The Feast of the Saints unsettles my stomach

I’m sick, bloated with depression, feeling rejection

After drinking from a cup poisoned with tolerance

Your tolerance is endurance, condescending

It does not persecute

Yet, it does not accept

Your tolerance does not deny, nor does it embrace

It doesn’t stand for something

And it doesn’t take a risk

Your tolerance is cowardice looking for a place to run

A silence of smoldering resentment

Waiting to explode

Your tight smile, your wide eyes, your upturned nose

They betray you

And don’t ever think, not even for a moment

I don’t see your furtive stares or hear your whispers

I feel the squirm in your handshake

And I understand the meaning of your stiff hug

Your tolerance is a glass ceiling

A wall of silence

A circle of fear

A subtle message that says

You’re not really wanted here

Tolerance is neither hot nor cold

Neither soothing nor refreshing

Tolerance is lukewarm

Fit to be spat out