Plumage like cotton flaps in haste
Passed irises expanded with light
Come to me you who dares to not
Be thine muse like God to the fallen angel
For your taste is not savory
But something I long for still
You are the moon to my sun
Why must it be my glow that helps you shine?
Fret not, for I’ll halt my complaints
I am thy patron
Benign in all I am
Praying for your touch
To not ignite a fear of rage
But to startle an urge greater than desire
I, who am weakened by your pearlescent gaze
Brought to tears by your silent lips
Wrenched at the heart by your iridescent hue
Am revived once more by your gentle chirps
The feathered creature for a moment lies
Within my sight along the horizon
I bid myself to observe him shrewdly
To stare at the tainted plumage
With dried terrain and marks of life
I stare not longer and take my leave
But he ceases to bid adieu
And warbles out a plea
To which I find myself entranced
I, like a demon to the Devil
Or an angel to the Great
Am uncertain if I’ve been beguiled
And have lost my will
To thine unkempt beauty
I cannot mask my sleeves with indifference
I cannot conceal the truth of my being
So can your warbled tunes turn to hymns
And bless me with thy truest self
Completely, fully, wholeheartedly
Without plainness from your beating chest?
The eternal note of longing
Is quenched by my thrumming heart
For you say one word
I claim three
My limbs stretch charged with the purest hue
And you sweep a pied feather along my flesh
Before searing my skin with the swiftness of your leave
I bear the marks of adoration
My color now imbued with red
Tainted like your plumage
Like a ribbon in the wind you soar with vivid rapidity
And my irises expand at the thought of chasing you
You see,
I am not a bird
But you,
You make me want to fly
-Kiran Bains Sahota