Mosaic

I killed her again.
Sacrificed her to the mystery.
She ate the sun-
burned to ash on the pyre.
Next morning, she rose with me
like some godforsaken phoenix.

I killed her again.
Drowned her in wine and memories.
She did not float-
she was a witch of course.
She sneaked back through the cracks
in my pounding skull.

I killed her again.
Silver blade like a paintbrush.
Made a mosaic of her,
but she is a fractal-
a worm. Smiling jaggedly in pieces
like a shattered dream.

I will kill her
every day, in every way
until my own bones are dust.
I will kill her every day, in every life
for every time she dies-
I rise, and rise.