How to Build an Altar

To build an altar you need the familiar territory of a dry riverbed and the shadow of a nuclear power plant. You need the roar of a siren on the air, the highway in the distance, the skull of a kingfisher and the footprints of someone you don’t love anymore. You need a stone from a hand that killed in a war far from home, knucklebones that know the fractals of a willow branch and all the sounds of breaking. You need the smells of honeysuckle, salt, and gunpowder, a piece of iron if you’re superstitious. You need the oil slick iridescence of a cockroach wing and a lock of your mother’s hair. You need the cornerstone of a place that makes you feel safe, even if that place isn’t really a place but a scrap of paper or the empty air. You need a poem written by someone you haven’t met yet.

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This poem first appeared in Lupercalia.

Published by

jessicahalseywrites

Jessica Halsey lives in Arkansas and is working toward earning a degree in Laboratory Science while she writes a horror series about werewolves, an urban fantasy series about fairies, and many strange poems. She loves birdwatching and performing venipuncture. Her house words are, “Is there blood on the floor?”

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