Sky burial. The ultimate mortality. Ritual dissection by blade and beak. Not just an empty body but a body emptied of its reality. Sky burial. Part savagery, part artistry. Split the flesh, eject the bone. A handsome feast for a handful of vultures. Sky burial at sunrise. No need for old news on a new day. Nothing left for the body to learn but butchery loves company. Flesh is such a transient luxury. Sky burial. Such detachment. Familiar face once human, familiar body now carrion. A meaningless collection of bones. What release that must give, what release that takes. Sky burial.