the triad of burning things:

black candle, incense honeytobacco&

me, burning green—feeling blue

feeling tried

feeling played out

feeling loss, pretending worlds

aint splitting into scary pieces

desensitized—how parting ways

don’t feel like falling apart

the triad of making things:

making ash, making smoke&

the difference between

being strong& being solid

if these curses be ours to break (?)

reward the flame—