the expanse of the splintering fire flames flash
across space time, pouring onto grey pupils.
I like how they appear once, and then in another form: another.
lanterns of tinted glass in power starved the rural households,
streaking through bland darkness.
arrival of the faintest rays from the shaded corner of the
mud brick encased kitchen,
lights the letters on the pages to life.
rice puffs and fluffs on the oven pit, letting out splinters,
across the skin of burnt deadwood, like sparks in the void
of silence.
the newborn within me giggles to the flickering flames.
carried by the wind across the face of decades of dead, burnt leaves,
I search for consciousness.