What if everything was sacred?
Every space a
holy site
Car horns blaring prayers to
chaotic cosmic deities
The dirt on our shoes
offerings of stardust
sprinkled from celestial altars
Mighty tenement temples
rising up from cracked asphalt
sheltering imperfectly venerated beings
A reminder
even that which we consider mundane
is touched by magic and awe
Including us.
We are enough.
Our very existence divine.
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