Song Of A Little Birdy

A little birdy told me
what you never would.
We breathe free, my birdy and me
with our puffball lungs and our
rib cages light as the pages
of a blank bible.

I'm up here now,
don't bother to come around.
Sell our house, use the proceeds
to buy a dead garland for the setting sun.
Birdy says things, terrible things
I hold in my beak like babies. 

Didn't I tell you? I'm an aviary
with a song for myself each season.
When the sky turns blowy gray,
we are prone to lose our reason
and build a briar nest inside your ear, 
then we sing the bees in.
_______

for this.