August 2009

Withering

What has ripped your wings, love?

Tied to stone by tethers and kept awake by rain,

You starve yourself in heart and stomach both.

Wet feathers and bloody claws are flaws only I could love.

Those I could love in you.

Eat your meals! Indulge in me!

Before you wither away, let me be your conquest!

Just take refuge, use me,

Scale these walls, oh lover of stone,

While vehicles of sea and air gather in fleets.

A sweep of your hand commands them.

A sweep of your hand commands me.

Any tactic, any position you desire.

If you would only say the word.

If you would only let me hold you.