…I like to watch things burn.
The flames engulfing the wood
The way I’d like them around these paper bones
The way we all burn out in time:
slowly but surely.
We bend over on the infernal heat
Cracking open, embers fly like fireworks
The only way not to die out there in the cold
In communion with the cosmos
When the fire dies out
Bless the land with the ashes
Or pour them into the open sea
Scattered across time
Like all the moments which will cease to be
For no one shall remember us much
When all memory becomes distorted by the tales
Our children will make up for all they don’t know…
…and never will.