Rolling, dark gray clouds, Sipping, late noon tea. Listening, aberginian winds. Late rain, drizzling on skin. Slowly I become something other than, myself, while still remaining, myself. With every long sip of tea I change into, the ground, the air, the water. My skin flakes away akin to feathers while, my skeleton erodes to dust while, my consciousness exists the same. I change into the elements, I am the rolling clouds, I am the hot elm tea, I am the soft rain. I am. Free from restrictions I can be, everywhere, no where. Free from restrictions I am, everything, nothing. The seed that bestows life, the germ that suffocates, I am, I am. Rolling, dark gray clouds, Late rain, drizzling on skin. I am I am.