we are bent at stone, patterning it into a patron. we are whittling shrines from tin and timber. we will travel miles to hold communions with morsels of an illusion. we will forgo the wealth of presence to worship a renowned absence.,
in summary, we will believe in a fabled invisibility but keep our own tangible, internal divinities out of range from that unwavering line of sight we call faith.
we trust everything, even that which does not exist. everything except ourselves.