the sun warm on me

the sun warm on me
with a camera steady at my side
I stand with a popsicle stick
coated in millet

parakeets fly about me
chirping and chattering
as a cockatoo calls out
a screeching cry


a budgie
yellow as a canary
that I tricked onto my stick
nibbles off his small treats

the cockatoo bobs along
mouthing my friend’s noise
as she clicks her tongue
he bobs his head and flaps


it’s a wonder
that inside our bright moment
there is nothingness deep within me
that threatens to claw out

I am eaten alive from my gut
by questions that have no answers
and heartbreaks that have no mendings
and longings that have no point


I will be ripped open
and from my stomach
will fly thousands of birds
finally free from their chamber

I will be ripped open
and the book will tear apart
and I will swallow the pages
as they sew into my skin


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