I waited four years and you delivered. Your own way, a different way.
I took you in and held you. I slept. And slept and slept. In a room with shabby windows, where the frames, for the most part, performed as windows purely on their own free will.
And then there were makeshift windows that dotted the outer walls. People had craved and carved for light. There were doors that used to be back entrances, now front entrances. Courtyards beyond courtyards that can take you from one end of the block right through to the other. Beyond and beyond. Endlessly, it seemed.
The wind swept and the skies were iron-colored and heavy. It was cold and dark, but somehow it felt warm underneath. There were churches. People inside, coming and going. They all knew the routine - which crucifixes to kiss, which altars to bow at, which candle-stand for the living and which ones for the dead. Sacred water in the corner. Just drink.
I did.
