Birds Of A Feather

By and for Bird-People

burn into life

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you burn so darkly

embers sullen beneath white of
ash, snow, skin
but they’re banked
and banked again
passion to melt through bone

how do you stay solid?

and it’s passion i admire
my desire to be bright
the phoenix has one lust alone
one single haunting dream and goal:
the flame
to be consumed

to what?
and to what end?
to burn is all
an end to itself
and who thinks of the ash
when all heart-fuel is gone?

my endurance is not so great
nor my fire so hot to
consume me as it must

and yours?

you are coiled steel
silver gray once
maybe even glowing red
but you’re warmed to white now
incandescence at the core
magma pulsing through your veins
and only outside rain and lunacy cools the surface to obsidian
and shadow

how do you not melt?

all that stoked flame kept under pressure
and you are still not ash
and i have never seen you ash
and i burn with the shared dark glory
of your passion

yeah
the stuff you keep coiled up in boxes and springs
beneath titanium, uranium
ice called out of the spaces between planets
not enough to contain it
not enough to quench it
and it consumes
me

finding my way to burn
by soaring through the heartfires of him, you, her
those who burn with more passion than they can hold
and i cannot quite seem to generate my own fire

icarus had a phoenix heart
couldn’t set himself aflame inside
took the wings to join the sun
the only thing hot enough
to set him alight
burn bright

the stories never tell quite how a phoenix dies
builds her nest
lays an egg
sets a worm inside
but where does the flame come from?

i think she sings the solar flares
becomes the bird-bride of the sun
and the ecstasy of their joining
consumes her into
life

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