11 Hearts

​

Though you don’t know it
You are never alone
Out of drawings and clothing
You build a nest as a home

You once drew my portrait
With sneering mandible teeth
Adapted to hawking
The smallest of seeds
  
Do you need
To change everything real?
Smallest seeds
Flame the brightest yields

Out of your eleven hearts
which one belongs to me?
 
Boreal slate-coloured Junco
I know your song in the morn
Sun crowns on your beasts
Bi-coloured mouthshapes of horns
 
Your bestiary for all of us
I loom in dark fictive swale
In your Mission apartment
I’m a grey-coated whale
 
Tarsus falange
Building to single strike
Your instinct in retreat
Leave scars and take flight
 
Out of your eleven hearts
which one belongs to me?

(She Sings)
You were the sad boy
That I followed home
You left a note in my nest
A love letter on loan

You will leave a trail
of bobby pins

(She Sings)
And you will leave a trail
Of lists of things to do

And in a coming day
when flight is old
My trail will lead me
back to you