A face carved out of night,
eyes flickering like forgotten signals
not quite alive, not fully gone.
Beneath the skin, a furnace whispers,
ribs glowing like broken halos,
each bone remembering fire
before it learned to be silent.
The spine runs downward
like a burning confession
a line that refuses to cool,
refuses to forget.
Here, the body is not a body
but a map of heat and hurt,
where something inside
keeps glowing
long after the world
has turned away.
