Serv'd Only to Discover

My great-aunt won't talk to me because I was born under those stars who remind her of the time when she was little and had to go with her cousin on the fishing boat, the slimy, splintering, too tall, pungent one that smelled like a spoon I used to suck on, to be honest, and she told me that, on top, the thing would glow all unholy, that a desecrating light was going to blind them and kill them all unless they prayed to that one saint, you know, the one that was never afraid of any lightning under any sky.