Kiss me and you can feel them fluttering.
"Aren't you happy?" you ask.
It is only the starlings rising in black unison
because your desire has disturbed them.
I am a molasses girl. I am what is left
after refinement. My heart is a vat.
Open it and drown
in starlings sugar-drunk and rushing
headlong into whatever will make you go away.
If I talk in my sleep near dawn,
it is just the starlings screaming from every tree.
I will bathe in the oven,
until my body is a cookie you can carry.
My familiars will follow, testing, screeching, objecting.
They are my dark dowry, the price you pay for more.
for Dverse "Strange Houses" (of Lee Madgwick) The art at top used with permission.
Music: Jonatha Brooke "Made of Gold"