Finally, down the hole, and my sanity is at ease,

(slowly now)

down the tube of troubled voices,

down the crawl space of gluttonous noises,

down into my soul that yearns for rapture,

down and slowly moving into that acid pit of nature,

down the uttermost glossy (yet slimy) hole of transition,

down into my gut of learning expedition,

down the hole of false prophesies,

down into my innermost colony of my apologies.

Almost directly down into my grumbling stomach.
Sliding down inside my broken fallen soul,
taken for a reasonable fool, now engaged only in my own scroll.
Dissolving, tumbling, sliding, falling, (the chemical) stops abruptly at its destination.
I feel the numbness of colors take over me in a slow explosion.
Sensation, condensation, formation, fills my skin and bones with longing tranquil paradise.
The chemical has hit my yearning void in this twisting concise surprise…