Ode to a Borderline
Self-immolated, I rise
from in your ashes,
Sun.
Nailed to your cross,
arms flung.
Your honey and vinegar
on lips enparched.
The thorns that pierce
our togetherness.
I am speared
your flames,
but resurrect to you
inexorably.
An unrequited dew,
an ephemeral yearning
for your injured flesh.
I flap my wingspan
as I sore.
Rebirth foregone.