My altar is the world, and I
A priestess without a god
In sight. Here, alone,
I seek the truth,
But find I remember lies instead.
I ponder what you've done and been,
That makes you what you are to me.
I ponder what I've known and seen,
That keeps me silent, still.
Your favor was no favor to me-
Only to something in yourself,
And yet I wonder what it is,
That lets you keep your lies,
And makes me keep my secrets.
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