I danced a dance through the eyes of needles and found there was nothing to carry.
Needless to say there was nothing to say.
And it looped and flipped inside of itself, I was.
Forests of life, burning alive, living as fire, breathing to die, and happening again.
Inside and out, through and through.
The end was the start and the in-between.
A song all along, singing itself to me about love.
The only way out was in, and to stop for a moment.
And even in that moment, such heat, because heat is life.
Death is living.

Later, I thought about the absence of darkness.
That darkness and the lack of complexity.
The infinite depth as great as creation.
And it’s all equal. Balancing.
Once this.