some tell me this is my pilgrimage
but you and I both know you were not shrine material
too much of this earth, composed
to breakdown, rise
limbs bearing these candlenuts I carry
in my pocket
this is my religion
Beautiful. And Amen.
I found it in a box among maps, plane tickets, matches, and letters from an ocean away. I wrote it in a hotel room in Amsterdam. Hotel de Filosoof [highly recommend].
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The 222 Victorian crimes that would get a man hanged