Joy, like a pulse through the wires of night,
spills from the throat of a burnt-out star.
We solder our shadows to the hymn,
let the_city hum: “Repeat, repeat.”
Plastic angels glitch in the neon steeple,
their wings cache errors of grace.
I press your heartbeat to the speaker—
it loops, it learns, it loves the distortion.
World without end, amen, amen,
till every broken byte sings back: rejoice.