I ate a songbird for dinner last night.
I wanted to feel the rhythm ribbed.
Resplendence uncaged.
When I held her<\/p>\n\n\n\n
between my teeth,
the sky wept
with a Biblical anger.
Rain raging.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I sent her like a dove
to sing signs of life
in the collapsed cavern of my chest \u2013
muted mission territory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Perhaps while she\u2019s decomposing
down there she will fall
in love with the piper
I ate last week,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
sand like grit between my teeth.
Perhaps she won\u2019t reject
the open invitation of his solitude
like I did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I did not want to confront
the loneliness he revealed,
but it turns out
his body in my chest<\/p>\n\n\n\n
gave me companionship
I didn\u2019t know I was missing.
The winged wraiths are good together.
But I am, in fact, still alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Why is this consummation,
a devout devouring,
still unfulfilling?
I will feast<\/p>\n\n\n\n
on feathered flesh \u2013
maybe a sacrificial dove
or the second robin of spring
(how could I take the first?) \u2013<\/p>\n\n\n\n
until the new fledgelings \u2013
part piper, part song \u2013
now a integral part of me,
carry us up<\/p>\n\n\n\n
to face the grace
of a generous god
who begs me to take him in
until he fills<\/p>\n\n\n\n
every cave and grotto
of my longing.
I look forward to changing
for good.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n