I̘ year͉n̶ for the magma. ͏The s͠weet warmth of ̂the liqui​d flowing ̒ove̩r my te͂ndri̎ļs.̑̚ I swell and burst releasing a clo̥ṷd͉ of̂ sp̺ores͑, ̸́ea͎͟ch the̶̥̟ begin͉n̘ing͑ of a̘ new li͌fe. I am content.