On a dark and silent planet,

a place I did not mean to be, 

driving me slowly to my senses, 

I heard her whisper

“haunts me, haunts me,

the fire you were in haunts me,”

unknowing, misled by the wreckage she’d pulled me from,

her tongue sliding upon my crisp and purple skin languidly,

occasionally pressing on through with a pop, 

as, bright-eyed, she’d sighed at a blue light this time escaping,

remorseless and searching for the next, she,

incessantly innocently greedy,

did not know the only one left 

would be bright, 

white sunlight,

“haunts me, haunts me,

the fire you were in haunts me,”

amazed, cognizant suddenly of my new breathing, 

threw back her head to match it,

before bending down 

to press through one more time, 

unknowing

I, instar

from far away and unscorched, only

having been merely between unending sheddings, 

yet having remained eyeless,

had now found color 

where she,

at that point still intact, 

had found sound...

upon this formerly dark and silent planet.