falling into heaven
Up there the stars circle in an endless whirl, irreconcilable with each other, shrouded by the clouds and smog of Tokyo. Himiko sits on her motorcycle by the side of the road, helmet tilted back, leaning on the handlebars, and envies them.
What would it be like, to burn endlessly but feel no pain from it? To turn and meet and pass and meet again, on ordained paths where nobody died of it?
Himiko dreams of being as light as her poisons and rising through the brightening air, breaking her bonds to the earth, shedding pain like flesh and darkness.
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