Red Bird Song

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You take off your clothes for me

with abandon showing

skin shameless in muted light

and think yourself brave

spurning inhibition but

I seek to continue to strip

skin, flesh, sinew down to

the real bone cage where your

heart hides.

I have the key to part the ribs

and grasp the quivering red

bird in my cupped hands.

This is love, when you trust my hands

to gently cradle, not to crush.

This is love, when I lift my arms

and let the red bird fly.