Why light a candle if you must learn to see in the dark?

When shadow meets shadow.
A search for community, the promise of pariahs in mutual antipathy.

The flight to light
is only natural
for the suicidal,

to love is to die to oneself.

The moth, his moth guts,his moth heart.

An instinct, a prod and nudge.
Driven forth again and again
to the bruise we go.

The phoenix in utero
is the promise.
The will of the already burnt /the immolate.

Become the light upon which others can flame they whisper…

The man who swung the hammer
upon marble Mary and Jesus.
No pity for the pieta.
Said it was to perfect, noone could make anything that perfect again.
It shamed the world.

No mouth to mouth
From the black hole anonymity.
No perfect swallow of light to digest.
Just the fragrance of a million million stories.

To die to becoming,
to forsake, is an awakening
from which nothing escapes.
To forego the light
is to become heavy and plummet
to the bottom of heart.
Here there are no reassurances, just the moment to moment blood.