Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth
In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.
I have seen him stretch out his naked limbs on the altar.
I have seen.
I have seen the flash of blades descending.
I have cried out.
I have anointed my brow with his blood.
I have mourned with the others.
I have eaten the red bread and drunk the red drink.
Then I have seen him rise up again, hale and whole.
I have wondered.
I have taken his hand.
I have danced with him then, and the others.
I have danced.
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