Yet again I have died

yet again I have died
and by fortune emerged
to tell of the death
relearned
marked by its labor
an obstinate spring
with each new birth
a moth—a flame
I burn out in flight
to land in the cut earth
a woman’s foot burrowed
there
I join her
and walking disappear
the forest too dear
too in love with what
I might become
to stay in one body
long

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