My Flighty Hearyt

 

Popping, popping in my chest! 

Not hiccups, nor ribs breaking.                                                                         Something more extraordinary:                                                       

Hollow,      ragged,   bones                                                                             shredding      through      muscle;

My heart crowded against two sprung wings:

Heavily feathered.

“But how?” You ask.

Am I not merely human as you hold me in your arms?

Take a finger,        

And feel my back. For I hear a sudden snap.

Perhaps they’ve sprouted further; found an escape.

 

Or perhaps my heart is mangled in its ravaged home.                                           

 

Killed by its own devoted stirrings, 

 

and urges to fly.