In the sweat tent,

Droplets form atop my skin.

Taking out from me the substance of my sin.

Waking, in the heat, another consciousness.

Slow to anger, softly spoken, the “better man”.

This total stranger, once awoken, permanent.

The pantheon of demons scream in their lament.

But overcoming, he and I ignore their cries.

One by one, the legion of deceivers die.

And before my eyes, my spine aligns itself upright.

Four eyes open wide to the Great Mystery’s light.

But the heat is too much for my body to endure.

The steam fills up my lungs, my knees fall to the floor.

And I see the clotted blobs of ink come billowing back

Inside of me, to be set free, with time and tact.

And so again, I’m slipping from the edge of ecstasy.

But that’s just how these things go. How it’s bound to be.

These helpless hordes caught up in their orbit, by my gravity.

They weigh me down, we’re slipping now

From the edge of ecstasy.

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