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Behind You it Speaks it Burns it Flies

Bashful light; altar of Prometheus and brother
of Daedalus do you understand
that Stephen is someone else, or have you
remembered yourself so imperfectly after
so many years of misgivings and misunderstandings?

Bashful lights, the candle held in your hooded robes
illuminate your eyes. Before you, the cold realization
of struggle and adversary seem overwhelming.

Neither fire nor flight follow the horizon. Lines between
the altar’s cracks glow with unseen light.

How did you find yourself here?

Movements of air and dust speak our histories. The histories
we are no longer content to retell bury themselves
within the deepest recesses of soul and sight.

Nothingness not nothing not no understand cold and fire and air travel if you dare.