Cathedral of Salt

Beneath all this I’m carving a cathedral of salt. I keep the entrance hidden, no one seems to notice the hours I’m missing  ...    I’ll bring you one night, it’s where I go when I hang up the phone  ... Neither you nor your soul is waiting for me at the end of this, I know that, the salt nearly clear after I chisel out the pews, the see-through altar, the opaque panes of glass that depict the stations of our cross —Here is the day we met, here is the day we remember we met