bird-song story

stories beating
at invisible boundaries
like birds against the window.
and I wait
wishing the bird would break the glass
even if
it meant the body and wings
entered torn and bloody
because,,, perhaps,,, then,,,

we will
lift it
from the ground
hold it
gently
and love
its soft
body-knowing
:::
if we do this
it will sing
again.

~
for XX4