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piety

I’ve laid the bull’s bones
and its thigh fat on
the altar stone
and set the pyre beneath them into flame
then prayed my sacrifice
would find some favor in
the eyes of Him,
the holy one
I call The Name..

But I was not so pious or
so brainless  as to think
that breathing in the rising smoke,
however sweet the smell of it,
would take me up to Him
or cause me  anything but agony
within my lungs
and make me Him disdain.

No, such a thing, I knew,
would root me to the earth
in coughing fits and tears
and bleary sight,
not place me in the skies.
Written by Baldwin
Published
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