This is the last of the salvageable work from the freewriting texting jumble of a few days ago. No title as of yet.
Summon the bare-breasted goddess
with the comely mouth and almond eyes,
and I’ll plead forgiveness from the god
of omens and warnings who sent messengers
I ignored: sheep born blind, dead birds in the field,
waters turned rust with blood. One will surely
hear us and extend mercy. If not, do not weep
when you find my body broken on the cliffs,
for a dying heartbeat makes up for a multitude of sins.