TO KNOW LIFE

Beneath the sky, his feet touch the burning ember, a forgotten regolith now, his body cools with the warmth in halflife cold calculation.
Forging forth the auburn reliquary of their obsidian ingot, hiding in the quellspring of their imbicated words, stilled to a chant.
Deep in the pulse in an overflow of words, his bitterness conforms his life to a need for mercy.
Somehow he breathes as the Stars do, expiating and shedding the hidden wastes within, ourselves now the living memory of the constellations burning need...
to know life.