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 !