While I was in the middle of it
both ends of the bridge caught fire.
The roots of the world exploded
as the flames launched birds
of impossible color
into the hidden breath of the night.

While I was amongst its forest
the song began to smoulder.
The audience turned slowly into smoke.
Those feverish angels watched from above
making the sound that shatters worlds
tearing my heart into petals that see.

Just for a moment we were in the middle of it.
Together. On fire. Inside each other.
Then the book began to burn.
Both ends caught lightning.
And the roots of the basis exploded,
ejecting us once again
into that long and starry sky
where the angels make their sound.