Booze

piss of angels
to revive my form
my stained fire
dead blood  

to return to something i know
something common
like a sidewalk scraped with bits of my flesh

to brace the emptiness  my secrets
my soul spread out on sticks

i wanted that spirit
and know
the terror and grace

was as real as the booze drunk
as real as the recovery
as comfortable as birth
as beautiful as surrender

as i walk on the ground always sought
and know the other spirit as well as my full veins
coursing a clean numinous blood  as if i hold all hearts

embracing the deep flow of our stillness
our common exquisite roar of being