No, it’s not, but it reminds me
of the rows and rows of votive candles
in every church I went to.
And I was filled with such longing for money,
lots and lots of money
so I could light them all,
see them shine,
see them flicker,
inhale their waxy fragrance.

and then I would pray
so deeply,
so fervently,
so purely
that I could still get into heaven
without having paid a cent.

Published by Titirangi Storyteller

Telling tales from around the world

4 thoughts on “Preservation

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