Love

draw a fragile line of dots
down across and back
you have the shape of a wing
the form of a simple sail

see this bird out of the egg too soon
the membrane of a wing stretched over bone
and the wetness of it

make a model of it
something in thin paper and wire
hide it

this inside
my lowest rib
these are the hands that will cover it
it is not ready

II
cut away the past
but cut fearfully
open the shoulders

did you expect to see a bird?
a sail?

only this tissue paper stretched
a line of dots on the page

the ribs and the hands are there

III
to make things with feathers—
the point is about the touching
does it happen?

this is not ready to be seen

IV
perhaps it is a small cat
furry, white and warm
was it there once?
an indentation remains
the memory of warmth

V
now I want a glass of water
please understand why