i saw her face in the bricks
just like how i saw God in the streelights
her smile was in the flourish of the stone, chiseled from a mason's hand
her eyes reminded me of what i believe heaven to be like
her hair also, reminiscent of the woodwork along the sharp edges of the stained glass found in cathedrals
their spires like sharp teeth, kissing the cityscape with elegance and vengeance
making sure no one doubted their reach, higher than most and closer to heaven than many will ever get.
she's the closest to heaven i may ever get.