Angels
Is a cavernous word.
A friary to echo in
With baby blue arches and a
Hundred year old crucifix.
Where dirty soles are never clean
But the souls submerged in
Misery and methamphetamine
Shine like crystals here
Under the slopes of fourteen hour days.
Praising God
With atheists in the room
Puts us somewhere
between eternity and
angelic caverns.
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