You fall slowly & smoothly.




Pooling in puddles.

You sweat & slip off the ledge, plummeting along the face of the cliff that held you; that is you. 

Held in iron.

Flush against the cloth & bathed in moonlight.

Your heat radiates.

There’s no motion. You have no limbs to move. You are held, entirely still; one. Complete & crumbling, folding again & again into yourself.

You sit there even now, an emblem ablaze; killing & comfortable. 

Devastated & selfless.

How can you fall so far & stand so tall? How can loom so large in drops so small?

All you know is that you do.

It’s painful but you oblige.

You burn.

Melting & melding deeper into yourself.

Death is birth. Birth is death. There is only life. 

Light the candle. 

Be the candle.