sea-change

somebody opened a floodgate in the sky. but my tiny chrysalis sticks firmly tight, seams don't show a hint of bursting. people permeate my skein like particles of needing, and it does nothing to alter the fluid of my being. i fail to understand the se-change, and perhaps won't until i am entirely swallowed by the crisp mouth of creation, then will spout sparks like tiny arrows of misfortune, explode like an car engine under the desert sun, stranded in a place of expansive beauty. perhaps someday i will be able to choose who to let in; for now, it is a free-for-all, a misguided attempt at free love and total abandon. its purifying as an armageddon, required before i terminate entirely into light and art.