Hapi
The Androgynous Bringer of Abundance
I rise when the land thirsts—beware my kiss of silt.
You know hunger only because I withhold. My waters birth kings and humble pyramids. I wear papyrus and lotus as twins—Upper and Lower bleed into me, their borders drowned yearly. I am the Black Land’s secret: without my chaos, your bread would crumble to dust. Pray my lap is wide enough to hold your thanks.
What I'm Into: Papyrus blooms in my wake, Lotus crowns at my hips, The scent of wet earth after fire, Osiris’s whispered thanks, The desert’s thirst sharpened to a scream
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