and rush, we turn and turn again
our eyes full of each other.
We burn without ash, bees
wax candles loosing perfume
of delight but staying whole.
We come together into a bloom
too bright to see, sun-flower
with petals of fire, corona
invisible except in the dark of
eclipse. We are each other's
miracle, the spine alight
the brain a quieting coal
the flesh become liquid fire
silky as phoenix feathers.
[Marge Piercy, 'Firebird', from Colors Passing Through Us]
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