[POEM] Passions

We take turns being god;

trading off burdens,

idolizations,

the mockery of what,

in the end,

is merely flesh,

merely human.

We take turns around

the rain dance,

bobbing and gasping for

miracles,

knowing we each are the only response

to our cries;

the exultation of power.

We take turns sinking

as low as we can muster.

Praise the euphoria of

drowning,

worship the edge of death,

that place most alive,

most mortal.

We take turns,

in the silence

to be silence,

to be god,

to be each other.

To be us.

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