We’ll stake the embodiment.
A deadly priestess dresses the aisle during Lent.
Depressing as it may seem,
the little lecterns take their places in the scene.
Washing Mary cold and foot,
the diesel engines blast down to the blessed root.
Actual fire stretches the islands leg,
and individual pieces can only stray out and beg.
It wasn’t their fault in the beginning.
They thought this ritual had an ending.
A pitied the boy dressed up in a mask
Answered questions that no one could ask.
Watch the candles out there. Watch the candles fall.
Dressed up like an Angel. Dressed up like a doll.
All winter she waited for the snow dove’s feathery song.
It flew through the flickery flame the darkest, most silent of them all.
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