recycling

we burned in our own separate hells
of green gasoline and fumes and fire
that took our faces
to the stove top
and melted our skin
from the inside out.

but from the ash of our pain
raised the phoenix of art and beauty
with the texture of flame and feather.

and amidst these transformations
we found our home
in the arms of the other
whose been there
and burned too
in their own time-space
and in their own subjectivity
and at their own pace.

(I love you).