Saturday, April 16, 2011

Pillar of the Community

Mandear denounced me as barren.  Stood up in the square like the wicker witch, I burned with anger they all mistook for shame.  When cold night came and I remained tethered, I wept.  

He came to me then, the horned one, perhaps mistaking my form for his sacrificial bride.  Leather ties broken by his will, I slid into the comfort of his arms, tears forgotten, and let him make me his fertile home.

Eyes avert at my fecund strength, round, whole, His.  When the child comes, I will slake its thirst with their blood, binding them to the new god.

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