Mortar and pestle
An old crows soul
Steeped in an
Effervescent liquid
The fire imbued
With bone dust
Acquired from a cat
Pulse quickening
Affects felt and
The mind becomes
Shrouded in a fog
Dimethyltriptomine
Releases me from the
Shackles of mortality
And the tangible world
Newts eyes playfully
Bobble as I swallow
This God forsaken tonic
Down my gullet
To avoid an untimely
Death at the hands of
Myself
©swk4411
S