In silent reverence,
the full three stories
of acutely gabled façade.
We reclined westward at the summit,
prying segments of the supple asphalt shingles beneath us,
not for the appearance of day,
but, rather, the evanescence of night.
The first moment of dawn is speculative against the city lights.
raven pupils of prophets, shamans, and infidels alike,
spied the inaugural tinges of day
in lurid tracers, geometric hieroglyphics, and
imprints of antidepressants scrawled across blotter paper sky.
Then, the slow atrophy of silhouettes, sanctuary, reverence…