a pedestal of ebony seven inches high.

i sit on a cushion of ermine black.

my shift, cassock and surplice like midnight.

my chador, my turban caps, my veil, darker than night.

i am secure on my throne; a celestial body immovable.

to my left and to my right, silent, transparent orbs immense, enclosing super-worlds obscured.

i mediate. my body the conduit. 50 to the 100 to the 100 gigawatts flow through me

like unruffled air.

when i awake from my trance, i spin, i vomit, i wish to die.

only Myself to comfort me.