The story so far:
shells have been broken, now like then
many times in-fracture
internal hell to where softer spoken loss
loses night to the gender of space
across from the bed-
the tall trees tap on the window
the magpie waits for her
she, has become black
& white
and greys too, impossible to know
where science meets sex
and merges inside whispers of colour
of beak and the bleakness of yesterday
in her case it is all a story of feathers
& wings that span under her diaphragm
pleading a pliable beat
understanding where each rib is formed
she tells the bird about Eve and Lilith
about ancient scribes that chart history
her history
and time waits for no man
or woman
or where sounds of nacre, separate shards
a collector of her many souls
never lost
the spare moments
parts of man
part woman
part bird
she has flight in mind
when the nuance of her bones
takes each synapse
captivates another seam of shinybright days
she is a thief
a tinker
a tailor to the stars
what wouldn't you do
to stitch more time
into your hands?
and weave magic into your life span
& let the magpie take an eye
and speak in tongues
she knows how birds fly south
for the winter in her bones
moves her body that way
Silver trophy winner
Adding your comment:
- smiles
- DO ME!!
... wow thank you so much.....
you are shiny bright so come, sit in my nest... i steal things like you 
hehhehehe
