she doesn’t remember burning
call it birdbrain or selective memory
she knows only that she once was
one iteration and
now is another
told she is really the same, still
a phoenix
but feels as different as
a chimera
pieced together from parts
that shouldn’t be hers, can’t be hers
because it is others who burn
yes?
in the stories it is always others
reborn they say
but birth and growth are painful and awkward
enough
to make one declare contentment
with scraggly feathers and cloudy eyes
with being ground-bound and weak
how brave they say
forgetting it takes but a moment
to combust
and it isn’t a choice
and it hurts to burn
at least she thinks it does
she is grateful she cannot remember
next time, she will wish a fire djinni
to reach into the smoking pyre
of her ashes and take a pinch
before she is reborn
then maybe she will be missing a talon
or suffer a bald patch in her plumage, but
she will have the ashes to remind her
of her burning
so she will always know
she once was a phoenix
that once was a phoenix
that will be a phoenix
again