She was like walking, breathing, dancing-electricity,
And every thing she touched,
Either came alive or bursted into flames.
Everything in her path turned into light.
She left behind light
Thirst drove me down to the water where I drank the moon’s reflection. To praise is to praise how one surrenders to the emptiness. We come spinning out of nothingness, scattering stars like dust. We rarely hear the inward music, but we’re all dancing to it nevertheless. You think the shadow is the substance.