PRIESTESS
The girl with the ash collar,
I've never known before to be
so loose. She speaks for God but
laughs nonetheless. Odd how that
combination sunders and breaks.
Not a harlot of her own consternation,
or mine - for sure - she steadily
pushes onward. Yet all I see are
her doorways and windows, and
all those others peering in.
-
Funny, is it, how men get bent up and
twisted, wrecked by Life and foiled
by grief? There are certain of us
who build perfect houses -
while others, only good at dreams,
walk slowly between shadows and
darkness - even those wearing
God's collar - trying to speak
of the difference between.
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