Dedicated to Lisa, a friend that I’ve never met
I stood there
in the moment before silence
your buttcheeks clenched,
made a sound akin to rubber duckies
the brown miasma, the black dirt
splashed my face,
the divine wind
uncombed my $107 haircut,
my kids
crying in the room next door
I'm never going back down that hole
was my last thought on God's fertile green earth,
but the paramedics find my eyes open
and empty
no light going in
no reflection
The Ayahuasca shamans and shawomen
collaborate on my resurrection
but no amount of burnt sage and palo santo can clean the erosion
caused to what used to be my nostrils, my nerve endings, my nervous system,
a desolated withered landscape filled with ghosts of tendrils,
and you hold my hand, but the pulse you feel is one of terror
I trusted you and you sent me to the seventh dimension,
how do you expect me to forgive?
anyone
anything
I’m no longer human
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