The Robins’ Song
Speak not of my bloodied chest,
but pray instead for some forgotten justice !
Fair Lady Wind, your presence is as welcome
as the flow of my precious life-blood.
I will evermore search of your beauteous
melodies, longing for that first-sprouted seed
of it all !
My Lady, nothing could please me more than
watching the flesh rot from my wretched frame, and
then cracking open my bones to find them as hollow
as the soul nestled in your stilled chest !
Lord of Clouds, I watch your majestic ascent with
guarded malice and open awe. I will follow your
graspings for the stratosphere and melt down this
turgid waste to temper solid, sleek allure !
If you shatter these two mirrors and peer into their
glassy depths, you will find me breaking through bonds
of sinew in search of that elusive ivory -
Oh, the purity never attained ! The naked form of the
cresting Aphrodite !
Let our laughter flock above as a pestilence of starlings,
watching the world below with the same sharpened
knives as the ones gnawing into our ribs,
gleaming hideously in the garish sun -
Starving for that gossamer, kindred protection !