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ritual is the sacrament of a god
Published in the 2020-2021 Honors Journal at the University of Colorado, Boulder
black widows
crucified
on the moss infested altar,
pupil goned eggs,
still rotting,
on the church’s ash’s memories of psalms:
these escape the children hidden behind the veil of servitude.
the crown of thorns tricks children down
to consummation,
their blood water turns to holy wine
and trickles
into the communal chalice;
is there comfort in a rosary
the child asks, is there comfort in a rosary ?
my child, that
is no longer a rosary,
and I know you still pray but
it stopped being a rosary before I stopped praying too;
we sink anyway, buried
underneath our own funeral pyre cross,
but incense will not exorcise us from what we did not know was wrong.
even if the mantises self resurrect
from the eyes of their self prescribed pentagrams,
ask them if they heard singing
in their coven of tongues;
we can only invite them to listen
while we hang our goat skulls
and make nests.
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