Somebody told me that salt is sacred.
I can say nothing but that my throat
must surely have been washed smooth
with the pilgrimage of these thousands
of swallowed tears, and my stomach,
a place of great refuge, is blessed.
Fire cleanse me, light cleanse me.
Let holy men kneel before my feet
far-travelled, seeking wisdom that pours
relentless from eyes and howling mouth.
Fire cleanse me, light cleanse me.
Great mother, calm mother, accept these gifts,
freely I give you my sadness, and wish
only to be washed clear as your clear blood.
Let me be pure, let me be whole.
Raging mother, strengthen me. Stain me
foam-flecked, roar me courageous, release me.
Fire cleanse me, light cleanse me.
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