We came from fire when stars struck – they say our gaze penetrated realms; the wings on our backs spanned tribes – magma of galaxies – our torsos glowing, the earth below was meant to be gold, our cords entwined in gilded spiralling. They say heat generates from us – flare in hearts that have tried breaking free – we hold key and wand in illusion of destiny; we lock time in mirrors. There is alchemy in lanterns we burn; the brim of the chalice is mouth of fire – elemental like creation, incendiary like life, invisible like air that fans dormant embers.