ten addicts arrive at my gym
to escape the boiled bitter
tea of their pain writhe in
exercise and blow off steam
one hour later they ant parade
into a van and return to the
recovery house another one’s
turn to light the stove’s flame
there are secrets to steep
in the hot liquid of truth
and serve scalding hot
without any sweetener
with ten swallows for each word
ten stomachs burn
just for now a liquid diet
of regurgitated honesty
things will improve they hear
one day one cup at a time
the drink will turn tolerable
even better life-giving
for the thing that brings agony
and kills darkness will be the knife
that slices the black sky
into glorious strips of light
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