The universe is the only known place at the intersection of life and death. Love is the greasy oily mechanism that creates the tension of our eyes. I lost me and him and her. Love is the precondition for consciousness.
It was hot. Extraordinarily so. Sweltering, air thick with a matching wound, primal wound, matching his own. The death of creation itself.
Love prevailed at the price of ruin. She felt the endless deaths of her new sights, darkening corners of every wall. Love persisted through grief. Love persisted through joy. Love persisted through love. The line of demarcation between the symbolic and the real bears the force and breaks. She was locked out of her own past, unsure which version of her is the caged fish. She loves the ghost of a promise from the ghost that held her spot in the real. She loves a ghost, an old privilege.
Like tree roots swirling, slivers of consciousness germinating, burrowing through slick soil. Development in isolation, the tension enough to rip form in two.
In love is the incalculable weight of itself, hidden behind an illusion is a microcosm of the universe.
On the sullen earth, dry and damp, moisture sliding from the cracks between matted soil, trampled upon by the ghost of a memory, and the memory of a ghost, holding on for the eternal recurrence. The smallest and most beautiful blip you'll ever see, awaiting them the same, phenomenon anchored to a sliver of the tension between our eyes, done and undone, forever's moment, anchored down to the sliver of the universe that was us.
•••
meanwhile, a loose twig of tinder burns in the grass, wiggling. it did not mean to fall, it was just a backyard good-bye party and there was no one close enough to catch and protect it.
on the ground, the burst of flames eat themselves up. the corporeal form of the tiny tree branch holds on to itself, inexplicably but undeniably.
through a small sliver parting the ashes on the remains of the twig a warm red glow persists, purified energy waiting to begin anew.
the twig demonstrates a primordial secret. the prevalence of the bliss of eternity itself.
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