we sit in circles
like dust settling
out of the room
like light fading
into the corners
like dark creeping
along the floor

we sit
and are ourselves
only to ourselves
to all others we 
are other

we stand 
like trees
like blades 
of tall grass
like birds 
on long legs
in the water

we fly at ourselves
and whirl about
our own heads

we the moth
we the flame
we the candlemaker

we hold ourselves
like little children
and laugh
into our hair
into the sun
and become