i’m writing again.
bittersweet
in between her legs, he bows
he, in stripping off modesty,
bends to pray.
she is sanctified
he washes her feet
in motions
crawling through time
she has come alive
polished and chipped,
(violet-tipped)
he watches as she turns
to whet the fire
and emerge unburned
like a phoenix she rises
from flames consumed
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