1.
THE VIRGIN AND THE PHOENIX
The quivering of sleek feathers, raven wings unfolding.
Shadows playing catch.
A virgin fire, alight.
Darkness swallows her gasps, massages her heart.
A golden phoenix rises from her flames.
…
The birth of that moment brings with it new life.
Love germinates, visible in the virgin’s eyes.
The raven has the grace of an angel, the cunning of Capone.
A proclivity for the forbidden.
The virgin is attracted to that.
…
A virgin and a phoenix share
the rise and fall of flight.
They share, too, a totem. That of passion.
A virgin’s passion is her learning.
A phoenix’ passion is her surrender to his lessons.
A golden raven works in the same way.
…
Where there are fires and virgins and golden sunbirds, there is candle wax, ash.
There is ceremony; ritual. Devotion.
An ambient calm, and trust. Lust.
A phoenix cannot rise without a fire.
A virgin cannot either.
…
The stroke of a wingtip on bare skin can render a virgin senseless.
A writhing virgin can do the same to a raven.
A phoenix is freed by extreme heat. Plumes of smoke. Smears of ash.
A virgin is freed when the timing is right.
The phoenix rises, carrying her in his talons.
C.J. Birch
