o prince of the heavenly host, to thee we pray
for deliverance. be our defense against
the devil, his snares, his dazzling darkness,
his love for the ruin of our humble souls.
she lifts her shot glass above her head,
toasts heaven, drives spirit down the gullet.
she will continue to do this until the demons
circling her disappear into church walls.
until the bottle is an empty nest of shards.
perdición de las almas.
*
heaps of skeletons buried without ceremony
push through the floorboards and gasp for air.
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