Hating the Phoenix is

hating a myth and hating a myth is hating a swan's wind

under my dress and a wind under my dress is a confession

and a confession is dyeing my hair sangria and hair dyed

sangria is a sadness and sadness is a sane emotion

and a sane emotion is candling an egg and egg candling is

flirting with a god and flirting with a god is a rising and not

the pain it requires and and the pain it requires is a valentine

and a valentine is kindling for February and kindling in

February is a playlist of old pop songs and a playlist 

of old pop songs is a seance of ghosts and a seance

of ghosts is sexing the shadows and sex in the shadows

is bullying your name to my lips and your name on my lips

is a fire's career in hunger and a fire's career in hunger is 

a tax paid in ashes and a tax paid in ashes is a marriage

and a marriage is Forgive me and forgiving me is another

weeping and another weeping is a pair of wings beating

red and breathless beneath my dress, alive enough to burn.

-Traci Brimhall