like a moth that was going towards the fire.
I have seen you in darkness
I burned
for darkness was cold,
unkindness and tenderlessness are always dark.
Flame even though deadlier than cold
is more enfolding and corresponding.
Hell is a hug less winter not fire,
passionless phantoms,
abscesses erupting of indifference.
It is unkindness that tore its chain,
eyes
that are not attached to any soul.
Hell is
where you are not holding my hand
in darkness.
