Prayer hungry and desperate she cries out
to gods she does not believe in.
“Have we done so badly by your sons?
The wolf and the snake prosper.”
It is always the daughters for which
one worries.
How long until Ragnarok?
She eats of the body and drinks of the blood,
knowing they serve better with malvern and garlic.
Her mother suckled her as a babe,
until she could speak and cry, “No more.”
It was her father who taught her to truly eat,
and know humiliation.
“Cover your nakedness
before you bring me to shame,”
coveting and repulsion weighing his
voice equally.
Such little wonder she is half alive!
“I am unfulfilled and too lonely.”
There is no response to this sacrifice of tears.
No guidance in the stars, no gods, no monsters.
So put paid to that bill,
call this one done.
Ask for forgiveness of yourself.
And run away.
Far away.
And pray for nothing.
There will always be an answer.
