Metamorphosis

The day I turned into you,     you saw me first.
You were there, breathing petals like lilies,     plucking stars
from my heart, to the earth on your palms.
I whisper to the wind      to whistle songs to you,  & 
you —a bright shard from the sun— eats up the darkness
on my tongue. I pray the hook in my throat  unfurls
Into lyrics     of old starlings   hymning your name.
I search your name in the sky of my heart,   & all I harvest is memories
of you as an angel,   &  I am incomprehensible 
for dishing void from my voice. 
Demons are fallen angels, &  oh!  what do we call fallen demons?
But you  are the clean waters,  shattering darkness
from my bones. & I moult from dirt    to your kisses 
wrapping my tongue with your molars,     making my 
breath as quiet as a sepulchre.