Over the altar hovers
A shiver of holy light,
Captured in the tight corners
Of my dim, cynical eyes.
What did I see—blushing wings,
Feathers brushing Paradise?
At such moments the blood sings
Above the head’s wooden facts,
Pulsing until the heart stings.
Despite logic’s sullen pacts,
Beauty has taken wild flight
Into the soul’s sudden cracks.
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