a broken-winged blackbird
gurgling promises on your doorstep
Is this flying?, I thrash
rolling and diving in the night stretch
of your brutal eyes
Or the drunken illusion that I can?
Yes, somewhere there is a moon
bright enough to show our midnight truths
but not here
not now
and if never,
what then
of my hollow bones
split and splintless
beating helplessly
on the pavement
at your feet