If I die and am reincarnated as a tiny shrimp at the bottom of the sea...

If I die and am reincarnated as a tiny shrimp at the bottom of the sea, Oblivious to the sky, Absorbing the gases that pipe out from deep chimneys, God breathing life directly through me, Colorless as everything else miles below, Then who will tell me that I am not an angel?

The highway of black sands, sucking, Eyes rolling in ecstasy constant love pumping through, My skin as I soak all heat in, And then dying to it all again, not knowing the difference and, Finally maybe finding the end crawling into the pitch of something bigger’s mouth, Then I will remember that I was an angel.