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The cold hard hearts of gods
despise
the lickspittle loyalty of dogs
Incense and candles
infuriate
appetites weaned on burning bones
Libations and tithes
purchase
only a smirk at the stingy waste
The gods lean down, though,
whispering
in our ears
feeding
on our devotion
We were divine, once,
giving
them names
stirring
them into life