Heavy dark drapes cover us, and only the tongues of fire lick alight the edges of, Folds that draped over edges which, never ending, never ending, Shrouded in the darkness that’s lit only by the tongues of fire, Enveloping edges, endlessly, seamlessly between the heat covering the ending. And the ending goes out with the fire. The heat leaves with the light. Folds become holds. The edges touching drapes, now the stillness takes silence as we’ve reached the end of the night.