i sit under this orange light sipping on what’s known as the vice pondering my choices actively acknowledging my own paradox in my attempt at greatness i’m halted in thought by the arrival of this liquid i sip it it tastes like all my decisions smooth and sultry, lulling me goodbye i slip into another paradigm of being i feel it creeping on me a warm ember in my upper chest indicating me of all the places it’s traveled inside my temple like a jovial juvenile, the liquid punctures all my crevices my mind state shifts my body loosens am i any different than i was before? for what was i searching from this bottle? ••• «message in a bottle» selah 6.30.22