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.