mythos-theos:

“You are a walking candle and I,
I am already burnt. Let this rise
like a phoenix
from our ashes. Let our hearts
sing out, dripping
with wax. We will be reborn
into each other’s
blood-tipped wings. Meet me again in the half light, dressed in smoke,
where nothing ever burns.”

— To Helen, From Cassandra – a. davida jane (via mythaelogy)