day 1: the birds tonight

30/30

The Birds Tonight

 

are asleep in the bushes,

happy to share their dusk.

You open your body to show them where you are bleeding,

but they don’t have a song for that.

 

In this heat

you can finger the seconds before dark.

Perhaps you are asleep again,

 

in the back room of the church

where if you knock a body will always appear

on the other side of the door. In this room,

the women have fallen asleep on their knees

 

with their hands clasped together.

You nestle yourself between the bodies of two mothers

with their heads in their hands and their mouths half open

dreaming gravity will drip their words out.

 

Tonight,

the birds are one voice,

a dozen dozing instruments.

 

In their sleep, the women are animals.

They use their whole bodies for song.

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