The traps that keep us
are set in our ways,
as we are. The garden,
the decorated walls, five
coats of thick-hide paint,
I've fed for too long.
These
firmly planted
cities of our hearts:
afraid to stay,
afraid to leave,
each living in their
own municipality.
Spirit-stirring
thoughts of you,
my heart beats high.
The perching birds - small and
living near the ground; they
line the sidewalks of the night.
They take what they need:
a narrow ledge,
a branch of steel.
While overhead
spoon by spoon of neon sky
lingers like an emerald matrix,
calling two hearts to their
home. Far from my
hubbub of complacency,
I wait, a helpless hatchling
for your love.
