Fiery flames dance atop the candles glowing all around me, I know because I lit them seconds ago, but I don’t see them. I’m alone with myself, attempting to navigate the rumbling, velvety darkness behind my pursed eyelids.
It’s the early part of the morning, the slim sliver of time-expanding space where all is perfectly, poetically quiet. Loud quiet.
The stars are still strung up, though their piercing becomes dimmer by the minute, and the energy of the day is still wet and fresh as dew; just beginning to stir like the first warm flicker of the tightly tucked wings on the birds who will soon begin their singing.
I am sitting up straight on the floor, stark still, breathing so slowly it feels just shy of impossible, and if you could see me you would swear I was now adrift inside the most pleasurable, comforting peace within my silken gentle body.