purification in fire. public cremation

Love is a check, that can be forged, that can be cashed. Love is a payment that comes due.

without my wounds, who was I? My scars were my face, my past was my life.

Whenever she thought she could not feel more alone, the universe peeled back another layer of darkness.

She would be half a planet away, floating in a turquoise sea, dancing by moonlight to flamenco guitar.

Whenever she turned her steep focus to me, I felt the warmth that flowers must feel when they bloom through the snow, under the first concentrated rays of the sun.

Her hatred glittered irresistibly. I could see it, the jewel, it was sapphire, it was the cold lakes of Norway.