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Becoming Ash

Cremation is my chosen final act.
May I become ash
to nourish the shores
where I was conceived.
 
In moments of passion,
I envision my flesh ablaze,
a withering torch.
Will my remains still pulse
with unquenched desire?
 
While I live, my eyes open wide
with longing,
and my arms extend in yearning,
not for rescue
but for embrace.
 
Yet the flames are too fierce.
My lovers do not hear my cries.
 
Burning, oh that ultimate,
bittersweet embrace with death.
I will relinquish all caution
and spread my lips in surrender
to the flames that will consume all of me.
 
There will be no resurrection,
no eternal life.
As the fire devours me,
past lovers will continue to long
for my embrace,
even while knowing
nothing of me remains
but ash.
Written by Nizana (Lauryn)
Published
Author's Note
Yesterday, I visited a local crematorium and made final arrangements while I was in a good frame of mind and sober. I'm not anticipating dying soon but death will come for all of us and it makes sense to be prepared. After a short counseling session with a nice woman there, I wrote this passage in my journal.
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