Over miles,
I scatter the ashes of someone once loved.
You are wind and need –
stay that way: Elusive, untouched
but touch only me.

I’ll let you linger against my skin just long enough
to create one scar.
Then I’ll release you,
watching you crash into light
like a moth –
proof that all creatures follow false moons.

Rooted in these mountains are trees
burnt to the core
and the tiny buds cropping up around them.
Only in the most devastating fires
do they open up their bark,
release their seeds to the earth.

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