cathedrals to Capital
The sun will glide across golden domes,
alight on spires and linger on towers,
dance lazily atop the waves before you.
The river will be perfectly rippled, waves lulling, drifting,
and the sky will be burnt and golden,
light blooming out of God-shaped clouds.
Cathedrals will catch your gaze, hold it, and out of focus,
the city will sprawl infinite.
Winding staircases and rooftop capers will fill your days, drink and grapes and luxury,
the slender wind keeping the space between the sheets and your bodies just cool enough
in Capital.
The river rapture runs into this place, but not out. It is at once the journey and the destination; it is where
you should have begun and it is where you will end.
Your ending is its beginning and as such it will remain in perpetuity, for you, for yours, for ours.