Immersed in a pool of purple
liquid, entranced and held in its entrails.
A whisp, a toungue, a flake.
Once, I walked down a road where the ashes fell thick.
Once, I stared at the sky, at the vultures, at the substance in the air.
I was there.
I know the taste of no tomorrow,
I know the shade of red when the fire follows,
I know deities that are hidden.
I know a rock, I am a rock.
I have enjoyed tranascendence.