I’ve lived in cities
where the steeples of churches
have real bells in them.
The hours dissipate
into the air, the streets, the
walls, our bodies. We
are made of the hours.
The hours pass like the divine
within us passes.
I’ve lived in cities
where the steeples of churches
have real bells in them.
The hours dissipate
into the air, the streets, the
walls, our bodies. We
are made of the hours.
The hours pass like the divine
within us passes.