You will never understand; but my heart was taken by a star from the hidden nest of the sky’s silent purpose — and at that instant, it plunged earthward from its exotic nightbed and pierced me, lodging irrevocably in my core. From that moment forward I suffered like a bird who is on fire and yet must fly; my every perception or thought fanned terrible conflagrations within my breast. When I moved my mouth, angels exploded therefrom. If I but traced a gesture with my hand, demons raised lightnings in its wake.

You will never understand. And yet, like a contagion whose cause is secret and ineffable, the rhythm in these words will, in time, draw you into the mystery they circumscribe. You will become the burning bird, and you shall come to know firsthand the ecstasies and torments of which I sing. But you will dare not speak them — as I have — and you will thus be spared the crucible in which fate slowly and fiercely rends the sacred threads that once were woven fast to shape my soul.