Imperfect Mirrors

Two ways of feelings.

One — to think feelings,
to weigh the heart,
to measure desire,
to keep the fire in a glass.
Safe from the storm,
safe from the fall,
safe from chaos —
and safe from ecstasy.

The other — to feel ideas,
to drink thought until it burns,
to let meaning pass through flesh,
to become a vessel of lightning.
Risking collapse,
risking the abyss,
risking the self —
but tasting eternity.

And two ways of dying.

One — to fade quietly into the dark,
untouched, unburned,
a map never unfolded,
a name never spoken.

The other — to dissolve like a star,
consumed by its own light,
yet radiant in its ending.

Between them we walk,

my sweetest friend —
two mirrors of the same longing,
two travellers of the same flame —
to live so truly,
so wildly,
that even nothingness
becomes a moment of meaning.