the city smelled like frankincense this morning stepping out into a world of startling reminiscence of childhoods spent chanting in churches and calling out to Papa, Papa! Come save us! Come save us from ourselves!
the city smelled like frankincense this morning like a whole world made holy streets paved with sacred resin sewers leaking holy vapors warm fogs wafting down from some invisible censer to smother us all in glory
the city smelled like frankincense this morning oh so familiar tangy-pine aroma of magick and mystery and mastery and gold glinting with candles' light burnt offerings sacrificed as to make the very air sacred with graceful gifts to gods
the city smelled like frankincense this morning potent and penetrating and permeating into and through and all around clinging and saturating, dizzying and cloying turning the world as a dervish reeling in a rush of divine dance inspired to the light of one true mind
the city smelled like frankincense this morning and when I breathed it in I knew I could read the sign I knew which way to go I knew what I had been waiting for and why I had been wanting