i never believed in god
but when i first lost you
i busted my
kneecaps falling to the earth
asking if

my denial of Him was
what took you

away.

i thought
maybe
that must have been the
price of praying to the stars
& worshiping science.

you told me that you pity those who fear
god and trust in Him but who turn
around to
tempt the devil with courtship
when He looks away

& to distrust all
who can count

their demons.

i suckled yours to life &
devoured them,
brought your hands to
a temple

& when i let you enter mine,
thunder shook the giza bricks &
rain rolled down the dusty
pyramids.

my body grew
black under ra;
constellated pillars

birthed from fire & brimstone
built these walls;

you indulged & He struck you down
like Lot's wife
& i let your re-emerge,
mummified in Awt-ib
in this body touching religion.