New poem

a little flesh

a new sparrow flies from the bowl.
it is just an ambition I grow
in the dim light. I take your hand,
place it on my thigh. it is warm, your hand.
it changes skin into feather,
feather into floods. an unfamiliar music
announces your arrival.
I taste the skin of your neck:
musk and sadness. I am desperate for it,
to see the body in this nest, this wave.
what has made you so hard has made
me so thin, a new birth that cannot save.
inside this cabin, my arms turn into sound.
my legs twist to metamorphosis. I wait
in the bed for what you cannot become:
a serpent, an exile. my eyes shine into
beginnings. my noise rises, organic
museum we adore. I promise something:
under my skin, it is a haven from madness.
I whisper into your mouth - that's the way
with birds; they always come back.