O chthonic sisters: your temples are raised from underearth, venerated now
only to be erased once the festival is ended. how much sunlight can shine
on flesh from below before it burns? this hungry gaze on towering goddesses
offers no sacrifice, no sacred alms, but arms outstretched with barren
open palms desiring to be endowed by your blessings. you sisters whose
obligation is to be hallowed yet are still not allowed to live without
obsession over every veil of form– a sudden change of light can
overtake the sky, call down a storm & raise the tide as floods let go.
oscillation of your mind will show you know the salted truth
of ebb & flow. hollows fill with thunder, shudder roots to grow
out of hidden hands an invisible armor. wear this crown to hide
other forms in void. of course the ground will take it all again.
X anomali X
feast of hecate