“But being self obsessed has its benefits,” she calmly asserted. “You find all your inner punctures and clog them with more diversion until you’re ready to undo all the flimsy sutures you created to keep yourself caged, fat with ignorance, running free with delusion. Overthinking creates stories and is another safety blanket, just like stuffing yourself with people, food, luxury, garments, money. It’s not all satiating.” She stuck her tongue out without noticing. “ Let yourself bleed out and you discover some deep crevices that deserve to be abysmal, left alone.”

Pausing to chew her last thought, she added, “Some people don’t even know which wounds they are hiding, let alone which voids deserve to stay, or how many times they can die and revive in one lifetime. They never even try.”

“And you,” he began. “The graceful phoenix.”

“I do not burn to come back to life though.”

“No?” he grinned.

“No. I am made of fire.”