The temple ​

If the body is a temple
On the entrance of this temple, build it’s very own chapel, for the angels to praise and the gods to bow before it
Let eyes lock with it and see a place of peace and harmony
So homes can be built and shelters of comfort and warmth can take presidency
Build it on sand, allow the sea wash it away when impurities eat at it
Edge the shape of every tower you build from cement, to stick together what’s valuable and cherished by man
Make of the lips like pillows that let loose dripping tastes of candy
So men can greet the temple on bent knees and worship on all fours
Carve the inside with marble, where it’s shining and hard
For dark times may come and leave marks
As night arrives, allow the moon say hello through the mirrors of the eyes
And sing sweet songs when men come and visit, for only the treasure buried in plain sight can be seen with pure eyes.

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