Held in a cocoon that pulses with life and warms me. I discovered what I loved. I let it consume me. A love so intense I would rip apart the very heart of this great world, shred its reality into slivers of a former rationality. My love is a violent butcher of opposition. Wrung out of all that made me, I let what I love cling to my being and its weight settle down. When I exist as nothing it will have devoured my remains. Given the possibilities of all that could destroy me, a lover seems better.