See-Saw

The other woman.

This flight I take is graced with compliments
That gather through seeping winds
From your chest of song
Captured in the space between my wings
This breast that sores in your view
Stroked by the hand that stroked many
When nurture defines spite
You're never far from the nest
Despite the hours before
Whence you held my wings
Tugging me gently down
Where I remain there to peck
Through each layer of dirt
That costumes your appearance
And ruffles your feathers
When too unsettled
And where upon you set me free
Fortune of endless beauty
Provided by your spouse
With your off spring about
And there I'll touch down
I shall raise my beak
To be left stranded
Until the nest falls free