Self Portrait as Incense During Worship

by Jenn Ngeth

You take a light; that blistering flame

to the tip of my head––


the start to my demise.


The countless ashes of my kin succumb

to your prayers; sacrificed for the absence of holy statues––


mythology turned into worship.


As I’m propped in rice grains, burning,

in my soon-to-be coffin; I permeate into the air––


transpiring your wishes to made-up entities.


As if the windpipes in your esophagus

were created by gods

& not from the action of human fucking.

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