What was it
That you wore?
Underneath the altar
And your stockings
On the floor,
This sunken grateful cynic
Anticipates the air.
That's all we ever hoped
To have between
Our barren, wondering souls.
Now more
And more will cover us,
Spreading a thickness
Distance longs for.
We have what we need
For the dreams that will come.
A lighter, a glass,
And a lock on the door.
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