And so let me
Disintegrate
I am viscous creeping sludge
Sloughed off a tranquil precipice
I am falling in slow motion
Only perceptible as a line being scribbled downward
Lowered like a rescue rope of ooze
Tender hands try to mold my descent
But they cannot touch me
I can envelop them, expanding outward my limbs of muck
The way is still downward
But an inflection at the nadir
Turns all to evanescent, rising rising light.