"When there is nothing left to burn you have to set yourself on fire." — Stars, Your Ex-Lover is Dead
I'm building pyres for all of my past lives(/loves). Before I die I plan on living at least twenty lives. The thing about living then dying then living again is that sometimes memory can be like an elephant. In the sense that it's as big as shit, and if it gets tired it'll sit and crush everything you've made of yourself.
Burn it. It'll haunt you anyway. New paragraph:
Sometimes a day will go by and there will be no sign of beauty, no matter how hard you stare at it. Studying all the details, picking up rugs, checking your belly button. There is just no beauty. All that you are left with is absences, invasions, crazy women and sick cows.
"The starry night loses an axle, veers off," says a poet.
Coincidently? There is a poem about a man's head on fire. He doesn't seem to know what the hell is going on either.
Claudia Lamar, September 2011