As a bird

Re-learning

I spread my
wings again
     fragile
     wings

Non-suspected
     wings
    bloody
   wet wings
as I remember our
sunrises at the beach.

Did you notice how I used to fly in your arms
But then one day you cut my wings

joy
I tucked my wings in
(the leftovers, the small pieces of wings that you couldn't cut)
my soul or was it that my soul was tucked in my wings?

as a shell hiding a grain of sand
inside its flesh

it hurt
it hurt
it hurt
not so much that I was not flying
it hurt not to show you my joy

and the soul resting in flesh
was bleeding
it was bleeding

it was bleeding. You were busy
and harsh

       You know no pain
as such
            no blood

my wings are growing back
            pure washed in the ocean that's now red.