there is a light in you, even when you think it has been extinguished. it never has. never is. phoenix, you never lose your flames. and when you burn up, you never turn to ash, instead you burst forth from what you used to be and blaze on. i hide, and skulk, and peer from amidst the smoke of midsummer fires; naturally: camouflage, la reynard. but i watch, watch, watch you by firebird luminance as you rise & rise with the fall.