Seeking the Light [Open!]

108 To go on is to go through. At last, even the seer is cremated. Each seed loves the dark for the light it promises. Without a word, I step forward. I know this ritual implicitly. It sings in my bones like a melody I cannot forget, even after the centuries have wiped most of my memory clear. Though I do not like the enigmatic stirrings of pleasure that her taste incites in me, I do not hesitate. This is life, this is creation, this is her design. My teeth pierce her wrists and knowledge and history and the urge to be in her and whit her always burns like a shooting star across a dry forest inside of me. I want to gasp, but I do not need air, and the gesture itself was meaningless in the face of all that she offered. My life for you I think, I sceam with every particle made perfect by her touch.