the hag speaks:

“here i am
straight from hell
with stolen spirits in a jar.
servant of the struggle
step to my hovel
sit back
take a sip
and let my sweat possess
everything you are.”

from the bottom of a barrel
we sacrifice our sweetness
to extract the soul of the devil;
evil things, though,
they come for her
slow and clean
reborn in a more agreeable concoction.

she swears
it’s all in the alchemy you burn with
it’s all about the type of holiness
you are.
remedy is easy
if you’re wise to the energy:
every moral in a nightmare
every lesson in an entity

“here’s to the smoother medicines,”
she boasts
“and to you, the sweetest of all dreams.”

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