I am

a hollow-boned

bird gliding through

empty blue splashes

of thin watercolor

above and away

from solid. Swimming

in the strokes

on a paper sky—

I am a shape

shifter, in my quiet

dance; the moonlight

filters down in fingers

of silk wrapped around

my skin: scales of

pearl, weaving chainmail

over me for my christening

gown. To be

invisible behind sleeping

eyes—I slip away

in daylight and enclose

myself in this echo

of siren songs: the silence

I come for. Turn into

glass, let them look

right past—I'm right

where I want, high

up in the sky with stars

in my eyes. I fly on

without the wind,

let the music be

my marrow and carry

me up. I am dead

to the below, floating

alone; listen to my heart

beat that is silence.