Temple

  • The Gutter And The Temple

    They paid her to hold what their lives could not contain. She was a priestess and didn’t know it. Every night a ritual. Every man a confession. The body as altar. And the city called her dirty. He stopped running. The race was the cage. The running was the walls. God is not light. God is not dark. God is what remains when you stop dividing. The gutter is the temple. You just never tried the handle.