If I were a bird, would you greet me on the sill?
Sing songs with me in the morn and
let me rest upon your shoulder’s arc?
When wind blows a kiss, won’t you lift my wings?—
wait for me to return at dawn.
Withholding my lost feathers together,
there in your harp strings.
With heart shaking, eyes that yearn…

No.
You shut the window, and keep me gone.
A bird that flies cannot do.

And if I were a crow, wouldn’t you flee from my side?
Scatter me away as if I were sin.
Leave me at the grave where my love bled.
Shun me from the sheets of your bed.
Walking through my broken way,
my broken beauty naught but a stain on your satin harem.
Tossing me the rot flesh of your scoff.
Blocking me from inner sanctum.
Deny me passage of dear dominion.

No ebon bird shall do.
Ugly, nor free;
these things are no good to you.

Yet if I were a swan,
you’d wrap me in gold.
Bless me in roses and lullabies and speak naught a word.
Hush to cradle my lips as if I were a babe,
come running if ever I need be saved.
Lay me out by the hearth in teeth clenching lust.
And, when I ask for water you’ll give me a cup.

But when I take flight to the lake
you break my neck,
and rape me of my feathers and strip my back.
You’d hang me up bare for all the world to see.

If I were a bird,
I’d be lucky if I ever shed a tear.