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.
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