Our bodies, our words, our creations, our hearts.

Their hands, their eyes, their conflict, their desires.

Solidity. Hostility. Coincidence and inevitability. Chance.

Light and darkness. What is good?

All of us, casting shadows. What do I seek?

What is it that I want? What is it that can satisfy the searching?

Moments. Shadows of fire. Brightest darkness, darkest light.

Contradiction. Pretty predators. Dangerous and delicate.

Flight. Name reminiscient of fire-breathing giants. Monsters,

Or perhaps misunderstood. But the unforgotten meaning

Betrays their essence. Can one have both light and darkness?

I miss hiding. I can't abandon being seen. Is there a way?

I watch the flames explode like flicking past pictures. Each millisecond lies still

Long enough for me to notice it,  and I do. The wind changes

And the sparks swerve off. They leave shadows in their fiery wake.

The light. No darkness in it, casting shadows all the same.

Can we appreciate perfection? We do not want to be untrue. Yet we do, in a way.

There must be a word for everything. I must name it to understand it.

I must understand it to believe in it. And I want to believe in it.

Like frozen fire. Fossilized glory. Wonder. Magic, even.

And what could be more essential than allowing myself

To give something unbelievably doubtful my whole heart?

To know that it is true, even if it isn't. To believe in the impossible.

I finally have a fairy tale of my own. And I don't need to hold back from it.

There is no grid, no fence, no dotted line. I can be. There are no rules anymore.

I cast shadows into the future, instead of backwards, to cover my past some

And hope they don't notice. There is no need for that anymore. I can and I will.

I do not need to keep myself to myself.

I am not ashamed.