Chapel

I have lit a candle in every chapel for you, declaring you my patron saint.

The necklace around my throat burns, searing my blasphemy into existence,

and I turn my head and pray for salvation.

I light a second candle to try and sage your memory from these hallowed halls,

but you dance in the smoke and linger in the sound.

I know you will not crackle out of the wood work, for I am nothing more than a dying ember you do not wish to nurture into a flame,

but Dear God I wish you would. Perhaps then I wouldn't search for your grace in my renewed faith.