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  NEOPAGANISM

  I don’t do this for you, for really anyone

  A self-consolatory act, as if there’s any other kind

  Goes the cynicism, and such desultory gibbering

  Is the new fuel du jour, with no alternates

  And I have no outfit changes, this is not

  A roleplaying game, more of a solitaire

  More of a trek across the highland, branches in tow

  But no matches, this ceremony has no burning

  Only muted recognition

  I don’t do this for you, for really anyone

  Forgotten half the steps, but what’s unfinished

  Can be powered through faith, just not in myself

  Maybe in the islands off the coast

  With craggy cliffs I could climb but never will

  The devotion to an avoided timeline

  Is all anything is, goes the cynicism

  If there’s a derelict out there, it’s invisible

  No witnesses

  Not even I, in my own way

  Sights blind with fog

  We stumble at only shades, goes the cynicism

  The relent of worry is

  Marrying a shadow, but

  He’s a bad lover, and

  I always make my tent and don’t see why

  I have to make yours