'Human Lighters' by Mari Tsetskhladze

The purpose of many now blank faces we meet and keep in the four walled chambers of a heart are simply to help make it beat. To be an additional burning blood flow, a rhythmic echo of a chest. To add a feeling and let it linger throughout the veins, to be the ash of a let out fire, and to sting as if dust was hot metal.

But more than anything, to be proof that there was a fire to begin with. That there was something alive enough to burn and stubborn enough to breathe.