the birds
call out this morning
as i sit
nursing a headache
hoping whatever
is growing
in my hollow skull
this phoenix
scrabbling within
greasy ashes
bursts free
to soar
through azure
emptiness
and carries
my love to her

i dreamt of fire
which lets me know
her heart
is beating in rhythm
with my own
sputtering distress
her undertone
keeping me going
when the rest of
humanity seems
dead set on my
succulent silence

the birds cry out
for a morning serenade
of a half woken fool
sipping coffee
while muttering
how i long
to sit quietly
hands playing along
her perfect flesh
as she tells me
anything at all
my skull splinters
to unleash
our forever upon
a world of
mythological dismay
as little dinosaurs
sing songs of
meteors dotting out
the cerulean skies