Novena Without Faith

Oh isis… hydatyd…
You’re blood lips
Surround me in
This hallway.
Cannon lust in
All this tumult…
Tied to the pathos… a revolt
You’re a slur…
She’s a slur…
And all the space between
Certain illusions…
Is the cause of rips…
Cracks and your face
We’ll wrinkle into nothing
Floorboards and passing headlights…
Any gate will reveal
Itself to me…
As a thief in the night
Oh isis… hydatyd