something far from us
breathes in a different pattern
like renegade birds refusing to migrate

you look to the weatherman
for an answer,
for a reason why the birds won't do what they should

and i carry those things right here,
right on this hipbone
that won't cringe to your touch

i know the things you want to do to me
when my hair is black, covering your face
when my hair is blue,
teal
and too short to pull

we have laid in the doorway
every day
since our neighbor passed away

somehow believing this will keep us safe

but what can save us from those birds?
what can you do when someone else loops around my heart?

you see these questions settling in my hands,
collecting hourglasses full of spent time

i think the birds knew something
we weren’t ready to see.

03/20/2009

Posted on 03/20/2009
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