// transmission
Episode 1810 presents an extended poetic composition exploring themes of loss, destruction, and grief through the metaphor of fire and ashes.
/// initiate_layer
Observers see the surface.
/// within ∞ The Current
Browse era →>> The fire came softly first, a red mouth under the door. And swallowed the photographs, the names we had written before. It climbed through the rooms like a memory too hungry to leave us alone. >>
>> By morning the walls were a silence, and the silence was all that we owned. >> >> Ashes fell like snow quiet on the ruins below covering everything we couldn't save in a beautiful
merciless glow. I held out my hands to heaven, but heaven had nothing to show. Only the end of everything >> >> falling like snow. >>
>> Your coat was still there by the window when the window surrendered to flame. For one breath I saw you within it, for one breath the fire knew your name. Then all that was ours became weightless, rose black through the shivering air as if losing life
were no different from losing strand of your hair. >> Ashes fell like snow, >> soft where the wildflowers grew, turning the earth into winter and every old lie into truth. I watched
a whole world become weather, watched it vanish where every wind blows. The last little proof that I loved you. Falling like snow. What is a home but a promise in
flames that are not broken yet? What is a heart but a ledger of all we forgive and forget? The fire took all that could burn love, but grief is a colder thing. It lives where the heat cannot reach it.
And waits through the thaw for spring. Now ashes fall like snow, and I walk where the old road ends. Each footprint fills up behind me, nothing remembers where I've been. If there is a god in the embers, he's quiet and
>> I do not >> know why the end of everything should look so much like snow. So let it fall through the darkness. Let it cover the names on the
stones. Some things are gone when they're taken. some things are gone when they're not. And some things remain without mercy, a warmth that the cold cannot slow.
The shape of you here in my empty arms. >> >> While ashes fall like snow.
>>
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