Rising from the ashes of the devastation that 'Us".
I brush off the soot that was those final months, days and hours
of what we shared.
Addressing the singe marks and burns.
I find patches of myself unscathed.
I will walk again, I will someday no longer feel the burning
on my flesh and the coals in my stomach.
I will look back and think, "I was lucky to feel that flame of passion."
The smell of smoke will remind me that in order to walk through the flame,
You must also feel the burn.
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