i found myself hopping,
curiously
like a magpie
on
sticklike legs
the angular prism of
thought; catching
the errant rays of
burnt umber
in the
collander like diffusion
of confused
post adolescent
squallor.

the stream filled the soft dusk with
cacophonic distillations
that swam across
the vast emptiness
between
reckonings
with a heavenly keen
not unlike
the amniotic
sea shell of
disinterred womb
yearnings.

as i spread my
wings
to inspect the green tinted
black feathers; a momentary lack
of self awareness,
left the crashing
cymbals of
body dysmorphia to
create
a myopic
pocket of prehensile
regret.

it was then
leathery flesh of
foreboding
slithered it’s way across
the navel of
my discontented
remorse
to lash those
once curious talons
to the damp clay of
seldom fired kilns
with a
snap
of cold iron
across the
banded desires of
childhood.

yet
once i was
a crow.