Just as your flesh has a soul,
so your inhalation is a sheath
containing a sword of sweet fire.
Now plunge this blade into your chest.
You are here to die of love.
Rest your head on the pillow.
Rest your mind in the heart.
Breathe out the day.
Breathe in the dark.
Be held.
It’s almost midnight.
I’ll tell you a secret.
You are the candle.
God is the moth.
Image by Matt Collishaw
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