Somewhere in the Negev
I chose to face the sun
turning from the deeper scarring
flame ignited in relentless hazel eyes

Quietly crumbling,
consumed by flames of shame
for betrayal beyond which - like
in the Negev -
there could be no afterlife the same

Like wings you spread your arms out -
no longer in the once
inviting gesture - but
to manifest the multitude of dust:

"All this sand is but the ashes" you said,
"of all the long gone Phoenixes unborn:
the duds, the meaningless dead losses;
the weaker birds, that never had it in them
no seed of new
just blind destructive urge to crash and burn"

And somewhere in the Negev
already crashed I faced the sun to burn
for betrayal beyond which - like
in the Negev -
there could be no future pages
left to turn.