I have been given a taste of divinity, of the ether, of magic. I have feverishly consumed the deep, inky black fruit. Its juice drips down my chin and soaks through my clothing, staining it the colour of the darkness behind the stars. I am reaching up, struggling to grasp at another taste. The heavens are toying with me, keeping it out of reach of my greedy fingers. Just far enough that I am starving myself but not too far that I don't keep trying to grasp at the divine.