We are like a religion.We, the tired ones. We,the middle of the night ones.We, the howl at the moon ones.We, the aching.Our bodies are like prayers,like a pair of hands held out,waiting for the rainto come and fill them.We, these burned bridges.We, these altars.If God is gone, then we are our own churches.We, the abandoned. We,the holy, arching likethe gates of heaven, findingforgiveness where we usedto find nothing.If God is gone, then maybe hehas hidden the light inside of us.We, the hallelujahs.We, the amens and theamends.We, the dirges.We, the absolutions.
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we - caitlyn siehl