samsara smells like carbon
a phoenix first must burn;
this is how you cull the fire from the feathers
necromance the ashes into a new existence
and christen it reincarnation: the birthing
of a serpentine soul,
the vise around your stillborn heart.
even chalcedony and agate
turn to onyx if you apply enough pressure;
coagulates to cinders
if you incinerate it long enough.
they say ashes to ashes
so i say light it up;
burn the snakeskin on a pyre
and watch the phoenix
By Dana Blatte
Dana Blatte is a sophomore in high school from Massachusetts. Previously, she has been recognized by the Alliance for Young Artists & Writers and NaNoWriMo’s Young Writer’s Program. Additionally, her work is published in or forthcoming from The Aurora Review, The Heritage Review, and Second Revolution. An aspiring illustrator, author, and polyglot, Dana dreams in lyricism, fairy tales, and obscure indie music.