Soul Saliva

the incense drifts under the incandescence

sometimes swirling like the Milky Way

and prayers are offered

audible words of faith and wonder

like spitting into a soup can

they hit and dribble down

I hear the echo in them

like the swirling of the Milky Way

they hang under the coherence

peering into the can I can

see evidence of a fainted

universe distilled in rings

then one voice in stillness

lay in a tin silo

standing  with a string dangling

and on the other end

a burning, a glow scented

of frankincense

and the smoke rises

and wanders while

I keep spitting prayers