and gathers
my boundaries
as though they are nothing more
than flimsy twigs
to kindle
his appetite.
As he sets them aside
blue skies are ripped out
from under me.
i flap
as i fall
hysterically
from the
family tree,
and into
his lustful flames.
goodbye sweet morsel
of rock a bye song…
my beak breaks
easily in his hands
no danger now
of my saying a word…
i dream of
wings
and thorny nests shaped
like a crown.
Imbued with the tragic tone of this. Beautiful though. Sigh.
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