Anamnesis

Holding up my cyanide cap to the sun I said,
A prison becomes a home if you have the key.
It is not the pill but the pink light glinting off
That has me thinking I am in the company
Of God in the form of the pharmacy delivery
Girl standing at my door with a silver ichthys
Necklace also shining a pink beam convincing
Me the Russians have perfected communication
With aliens and I was now standing in the line
Of their transmission like a flashbulb going off.
To say there is no explanation for this is not
An understatement, it is the only explanation.
Put another way: I am the only person to never
Have a mystical experience and remain sane.