The gorgeous Fox mesmerizes me,
I watch him perform for me,
Sing for me,
Play for me,
Call me out by name.
"Little Bird" He cries,
"Don't leave me,
Let the sun hit your feathers,
So you may light up,
In brilliant hues,
Of gorgeous greens,
And blues."
"Little Bird" He croons,
"Be mine, be my dark,
Beautiful raven,
And never let me go.
Be my songbird,
And sing only for me,
Because I care about you."
And I bathe in the attention of my Fox,
I let myself fall for him,
I listen to him,
I care for him,
And as I open my beak to sing,
I drop the bread from within my mouth,
Which he catches in his teeth,
And flees,
Leaving his Little Bird,
To cry in shame for what she's done.
Written for a man I called my Fox once in reference to the Aesop's Fable about the fox and the raven. He called me "Little Bird" after I compared myself to a raven once, so I found the fable fitting both then and now, though for different reasons. I still miss him, and although we can remain friends, that doesn't mean I get my bread back :/