register receipt paper

You've sunburned me, stranger. I'm not entirely aware of how we became so warm or how we've ended up so far away from the earth, but if you were to leave me alone on this sun now I'd instantly heal. I like the pain of knowing I'm alive, though. I embrace the itch, twitch off the burn. My body needs more to feel whole again, it's sick from the cool earth atmosphere, so inconstant. Flames consume me and I see nothing but eyes on the other side. I no longer need a pinch out of this consuming dream. I have become it. I always worshiped the sun and threw rocks at her starry shield to break the heavenly barrier, but now I'm here breathing her fire. I don't know heat. I know peace and passion. I know that I'm alone here with another who has brought me here. Clarity rises from the smoke, and we're detached from suppressing ground; the center point of the universe, seeing and believing all the planets and their inhabitants as they pass. We enjoy this sight, the worlds passing us on our own time. We're in a yellow kitchen with light switches and faucets and energy, laughing over the fates. Am I existing? I must be, as you're whispering from across a glass table that I need to cut my fingernails.