Hovering above, a translucent apparition haunts the ceiling. Roving around impatiently, snapping at the flicking light like a moth to the flame. Frightened by its early departure. Not excepting this flight, I focus on what is left of my failing breath. I try and bring it all back, to ground the spirit to its terminal that lay in its time of dying. A surge of pulsations ignites my veins, as a rush of warmth explodes around me, the spirit envelopes the flesh. The host regains control, pacifying the angry ghost, cradling it into submission. Feeding it with the love and hate that it needs to survive, inside this holy temple, of this body and mind.
– Josh Fleming