Phoenix 

Blurred, and barely 

recognizable, 

but still a similar shape.

Eyes speaking of degrees,

bonfires held in heavy lids,

leaving powdery remains

of memories

in wake.

Ash falls from the perceived sky,

gathering on the ledges:

lips, nose, cheeks,

hollow of the throat,

until they blanket,

sheets of soft snow.

Cleanse nostalgic notion

with ravenous fire, 

odious infection of frivolity 

fought with seering pain

and burnt sacrifice.

A relief etched into the heart,

a scene of paradox,

set to a syncopated beat

diguised as Reason,

and this memento will keep

when the wild winds whisper

notions of immortality.

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