I yeä́rn f̨̅o͉͏r the magm̥a. The sweet wa͍rmth of the l͌iqu̥id flowi͈ng̴ ove̿r ̙my tend̺r̆il̷̆̈́͠s. I swell an̪d ̐bur̮̀̔s̈́t͜ rel͎ea̺sing a cloud of spores, each the beginning of a new life. I am̔͂ co̠̖͌nteǹt.