On the street I live, is a statue of the Virgin
glazed in roses, incense and the azure blue of her robes
my best friend used to tell me, the Virgin's tender eyes
haunt her day, I told her light a candle and pray at her feet
she said, her God doesn't deal in candles
but with the contents of the heart,
sacred and scared
she like the birds, flies close but never too close to the statue
I pass the statute every day, say Hail, Mary save us
from the devil and I never once say that I,
I am scared of the statue's shadow
falling on my skin.
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