Altar
We make ourselves anew:
wash each other's bodies
in frankincense and myrrh,
adorn each other's arms
in bracelets of gold.
We are both mortar and pestle.
We grind our bones down
for creation, bury our dust deep,
seeds we water with mouths
of yes. We breathe
deep, roots we grow
with lips
of oh.
We spread palms across
the floor & prepare
to embrace the gods
who, when called,
come.
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