Poignant.

So poignant. And the pressure of the fire on the flesh. He burns holes in your flesh. With his tounge. And you can feel the heat when his eyes search over you. And it hurts to listen to him. And to watch him. And it hurts when you don't. So poignant. And it will cut. A man will kill a girl and bury her body and she will decompose and flowers will spring up where her body was and bees will use the flowers to make the honey and the father of the dead girl will eat the honey. And he will become the girl. You used to dance. You used to dance like the trees did before people came along and ruined you with their greed and their poison and their cars and their hate. You killed the dancing trees so you become the dancing trees. So poignant. The pressure of the ice on the heart. The only way down is to fall and years later when you are much younger, we can go back.