Oblivious

I think perhaps today I shall be
Well-suited in the absence of any particularity
I will leave my headache behind with my
Genetic composition, immaterial yet all too
Significant in this body’s first degree of separation
I shall endeavor to be impartial, and offer
My throat to the gods high on the portals of clouds,
I am thus subscribed to contrive and alter
A new reality as of yet congealing
Like a few sacred and profane ingredients in a pot,
Like a witch, I cackle, I stir, I brew myself into today’s
State and prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that
It is neither mine nor destiny’s decision nor disposition.
I must have had billions of incarnations as a mosquito
I suppose.

I am seeping into the colour amber,
Resinous, insidious, and
Altogether oblivious.