"belief in or worship of strange gods" 

and i 
have too many deities to count

the gods that inhabit my bow 
breathe pull release
repetition recitation

and the ghosts/gods
that lie in bed with me at night 
i suspect they are a spectre of godliness/loneliness
curling tight towards me 
fingers curled tightly around my wrists like shackles
they whisper secrets in my ears that i'll forget in the morning

and all those in the space between minutes 
hesitant and ephemeral 
filling up the gaps to haunt my skull
rattling around inside the empty parts

and the gods, 
oh, the gods of my writing 
strange beasts with whims that align with no stars 
dragging and sporadic 
they are my heart and i know them well

and the odd gods of my life 
are the circus of deities following me during daylight 
in silent progression, procession 
always present. 

The End

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