It is a scream. It is a shout.
A jump into a lake with no water, flapping among the drowning fish.
It is faith. It is willingness.
To scoop up the mud and bury yourself deep in the earth, and hope that maybe a flower will grow in your place.
It is knowing the night, looking up from the riverbed and smelling that sweet, yet pungent air. The stars will sing down to you with their knowledge, swelled up, spilling out in the form of light.
When you can taste the light, spreading through your mouth, fluttery, catching, dancing, it is the weight of the world on your mind.
Like a strip of paper coated with LSD resting on your tongue, it changes you. It makes you see from under all that mud, it makes you pull yourself up to the surface, to smell that air and taste the sharp, blinding light of the heavens.
