She fluffs her feathers, beautiful plume after plume
A grand creature, to be sure
Strutting in overestimated legacy.
She is wings and smoke, she is eyes and variance
Nebulous speech, always on air
Too smart to love and too smart to care.
She paints my cage. She sings her cave
She dances in ink; she writes surrender.
“If I love you, I must show you the things you cannot see.”
And like all renaissance girls, she fades like yesterday’s ghost
Drowning in the tide of her dreams
Flickering promises hung from a tree
– And I have only stardust left to hold.