" Resurgence "
Back to the forest
where hemlocks (in their blight)
no longer rosin up their boughs.
Where moss takes us back—
bear with me while I tell it to you straight.
When we shed our skin—
it was never about love
or a higher consciousness.
Your hard to my soft
and the glorious wings
of hummingbird moths
flurrying around us like snow.
Even now, in the dead of winter.
the mossy ground, hardened
holds the imprint of our bodies.
Spring, we’ll become liquid.
The ground littered with frozen moths
absorbs the heat of the sun.
Thirsty, I drink you like holy wine,
take you like a host into my mouth.
We will rise again.
Showering the ground with dusty wings.
Dancing towards the hottest flame,
singed only slightly,
exquisite
as sin.
© 2003 Lauriette (Laurie Byro)
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