Wasted theourgia



I constructed concave icons
The consecrated
took it forever
to spiral outwards tongue-knitted eights
to avoid the dentoid void
under sinking muzzles

I brought ambrosia
like Moses
I amassed a masculine manna
to gloss amongst those alms doses

In liveable conclaves
I laved their feet
with waves of livelong lava
I gave their ventricles velvet valves
for the voracious unvoiced vaults
I vowed to auscult their owlish words
"aidios kata chronon"

- none pledged allegiance-
they just genuflected
to let themselves loose downwards
on a sinusoidal, anthropo-morphosing chord.