“i’ll fuck you over for holiness,” the lord tells his faithful. “cut off, closure, the land’ll vomit you. guilt feels terminal here”

“these, my rules, you’ll keep” —lev 20

“I like you holy, my faithful,” the lord tells his favorite man, the one he raised from the nile, “i know your value,” he’s rehearsing his covenant now, “rest if i rest, revere if i revere. hate if i hate. if you’re harvesting, leave a handful of lots for the unnourished, the foreign. how’s your heart feel, right now?” the charmer from the nile has never felt farther from it

these verses are the height of the holiness code—lev 19

“this is not egypt,” the lord tells his narrative, the charmer and the verse therein, “nor is this canaan. there are rules in fucking, in rape, noncon, consent. flesh and incest, voyeurism and uncoverings. i’ll cast you out for these, or for less.” his charmer, the narrative, the verse, remain quiet. “even the land’ll vomit you out”

“you shall not violate thy self or thy neighbor” —lev 18

“my heart breaks for offerings,” the lord tells you. “oozes, leaks, i’m mushy like that,” he continues, “like viscera. like viscera—never let viscera touch your lips.” these rules confuse his charmer, the man lifted from the nile. he nods regardless, as though his lips weren’t stained with blood

“on offerings” —lev 17

“i’ll kill my high priest if he comes too close, in the holy of holies,” the lord tells his charmer. “unless he comes close on yom atonement. then, he is to enter the tent, in his vestments, clean himself, go to the entrance of the tent of meeting, take two goats, throw lots onto the one for azazel, kill a cow, hurl two handfuls of crushed frankincense, lilt on himself in viscera, take the remaining goat in the veil of my room, kill it therein, remove his clothes, lie near me.” “how violent,” the charmer thinks to himself. “no,” the lord replies to nothing, “how loving”

“this is the rest of rests, the yom atonement” —lev 16

“cumming is not clean,” the lord tells his charmer. “neither is menstruating. for seven nights you’re left not clean in these.” the charmer’s cheeks flush. “this kills, you know,” the lord continues, “this rift from cleanliness kills.” “how hot,” the charmer replies

“keep them from their noncleanliness” —lev 15

“if you’re clean, though your flesh hurts, you’ll need two rock partridges, cedarwood, crimson yarn, hyssop,” the lord tells his charmer. kill one, keep the other. the charmer listens. “on the seventh night, you enter the tent, remove hair from yourself. on the eighth night you’ll need two lambs, one ewe, a grain offering of 3/10 ephah, oil, and oil.” or turtle doves, he’ll verse later. he tells the charmer things of canaan, of life to come. then he tells him that the flesh of homes can rot, too

“this is the rule of flesh” —lev 14

flesh lesions, white flesh, non healing. tsarath, that’s the referent here; flesh that requires one to remove themself from the group. not fully, though, and not in risk, and not lonely—the men in vestments’ll check on them regularly. the real threat to healing is forgetting them, the lord knows

“flesh not clean” —lev 13

he thinks of zipporah; this charmer of the lord misses the feel of his lover, the lull of her voice. the lord, in turn, thinks of the feminine. he likes them too, likes how light they look, how laces rest on their necks. he liked the first one too, her curly hair and the fruit on her lips. “for rearing cleanly,” the lord lifts himself from his even reverie, "thirty-three nights for male children, sixty-six for feminine.” this lifts the charmer from his reverie too. he’s not thought of zipporah like this on horev. he’s not thought of their son; the lord fills the holes left, he notices. “sixty-six,” he tries to rehearse. these verses’re not long

"on child-rearing,” —lev 12

“it’s not right, in look or feel, to like things like these,” the lord is referring to the crawling things, the chewing things, the hooves, the unfinned. “they’re yucky,” he tells his favorite. “yucky,” his favorite repeats

“this is the law of the clean or nonclean" —lev 11

god invests himself in aaron’s sons, nadav and ahivu. they knew the verses, knew the rites. they come to the tent of meeting fucked up, though. they kindle an “unholy fire” of the lord, and it licks their flesh, killing them ruthlessly, heartlessly. the lord likes the feel of that. two remaining sons of aaron try their vestment then. though they’re not fucked up in the tent, they fall nonetheless. the father is in loss. his father in less loss; the lord only notes the look and feel of these violent, crummy men. he likes the former quality, though not the latter

“the lord consumed them” —lev 10

on the eighth morning of the rite, aaron is vested. “i’ve long liked him,” god verses. “he’s not quiet, like you. he’s not violent, like you. he’s the kind of man i should love. i long like him, though—not love.”

“the lord consumed [him]” —lev 9

god relies on men in vestment, he likes the lure of them. “retrieve aaron and his children,” god tells his favorite, “then offer three animals of the flock for them. anoint them in fat, oil, viscera, give them clothing of metal, of urim, of thummim, of gold. they like yeast?” the question is never a question. moses is receptive, though; he likes these guidelines. half of the offerings go to the louder, latter of him and his children. the other half go to god. in seven nights this rite feels its closure

“get me aaron,” —lev 8

“this is the last i’ll tell you on offerings,” the lord is seven verses invested, now. “guilt, nonclean, killing, fat, liver, loin. thanksgiving. the things that touch your lips. tell them these things, my love.” the lord’s love listens, then tells

“this is the rule of offerings” —lev 7

“i’ve regard for those in vestments,” the lord tells his favorite. “i’ve regard for how their linens fit, how they lift grain to their mouth.” he’s a freak, the lord’s favorite is thinking. i love this freak

“the lord tells this to moses…” —lev 6