15 July 2020
Dearest Fazal,
The cremation fields in Benares, India, reach me in color as you intended. It is elemental, sensory like the swirling of smoke. A suffocating limerence. I smell fire consuming flesh. My hands are holding the heat. If I close my eyes, I can still hear and listen to the flames licking the last remains of my own brother’s body burning not on a pyre, but in a retort.
We are Earth.
We are Fire.
We are Water.
We are Air.
all
is
No more. We always want more.
that
We are sparks of breakaway light dissolving
Love,
Terry