You’ll have someone else’s eyes, stranger.
You won’t see the sparrows in my head. The world
will be translucent—the light through orchid petals
will break over everything: sun dyed lies.
Somewhere deep and echoing like water you will remember
what it was like to be lost in her, laced tight inside,
windowless and blind. Today you are not
anything. You are an idea lodged inside a pile
of breathing earth, winged and caged and unknowing.