arching my back the sparks fly like shaved metal off of my sternum as something like happiness flecks through in metal firebuds that screech coming over me as a wave washes through my molecular structure, inside the libations held up to the small goddesses running through the rush of the chainsaw shrieks of bloodstream now a fomenting river of tiny waves cresting made up of my tears shed all through the mineral-encrusted night Now those tiny deities with singing plumpness of breast and thigh indigo radiating from their third eye are dancing inside my being as I strive to catch the shadows that only just surrounded me in that last hour of plague of chasm-patched torment tears insulating me until I could not see for the steam just on the edge of inability to contain my filtered out pre-injected rage Here I now sit a few inches above the grasslands lotus in each palm pumped with manifestation in my very fingers of life