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.
Melting & melding deeper into yourself.
Death is birth. Birth is death. There is only life.
Light the candle.
Be the candle.