Sieannen Bell

Moon rise, fury tide
The heat at the center of me is bleaching
my bones from the inside out
I am lava set in a circlet of snow

-turquoise, fluorite, moss agate-
my charms against disentigration

Save me from myself
bind me with wildflowers
tie me to these mountains
and hang me by my hair from willow and ash
while knowing eyes watch from the flickering shadows
and laugh
sing-song mockery
the stilted tune of Loki
the dizzy chanting of a crazed coyote
stealing solidity from me
My spirit is liquid, is molten
my eyes have burned to lapis pools
There are blisters, there are drops of blood
on my hands where I tried to hold myself
together.

I deny I deny I deny
chaos control loss and
this terrible aching for absolution
But I am the spark
I am the retribution by spirit
I am a hollow reed
holding fire in my womb
host for a seething flame
that is seeping up through my
terrified skin
and I am glowing
an explosion
in slow motion
Tears scorching my face
trails of hot resin:
blood amber and red gold

I am the witch burned
three times over and still I live
yet I am fully consumed
by the flame
I am held in possession by an ecstatic madness
that surges through me
my labored breathing the only sound
except for the clenching and unclenching
of my fists as I attempt to somehow simultaniously
release and absorb all this rising magma
I am in flux
I am in preparation
for an erruption turned inwards
the momentary agony of orgasm
overtaking any remnants of polite sanity
This is only the prelude
This is my warning to all who hold me near
Beware the phoenix