O Father of the Wolf! Heed my howl!
Grip me in mischief’s embrace and
quicken my mead with your wits, O
Loki! O Father of Death! Grant me
the sly shapechanging to elude even
Odin’s mad frenzy, Hail! Heed my cry!
Father of the Ourobourous! Give me
utgard, give me seidhr, give me a cock
tied to the nanny goat and teach me
treachery, to have a tongue of knives,
O how I love you, Loki, like your yellow
dandelions and summer grass eyes!
Trickster Immaculate, Balder’s Demise!
Wrap me up in slender freckled arms
and elfin locks and let us sail on a
ship of nails to this Ragnarok. Breathe
into me, Lodr, I am quickened blood in
your pulse, running wild a skald, my
Northern blood venom like Gangleri.
I can slip into the earth and drink
down poetry from Gunnlod’s cunt, I can
see the end and shape of things! Oh
Loki, wife of Angrboda, husband of Sigyn,
enfettered like my mind, these chains suit
us well, and when no one looks, our madness
breaks free, oh Scarlip, oh Flaming Bastard,
oh tricksy muse of crackling wind and flame!
Can I count the ways I love thee? With all
my Yngling blood, with all my spaekraft, I
am your daughter, I am Lokisdattir, I am
penitent at your knees, Storyteller. Hail
the Wanderer, Hail the Outcast, Hail Loki!