Stalking your cage
in circumscribe—
I notice your door
gleams ajar in the light.
“You’ve been out again,”
I reprimand,
“warming your feathers
in the sun of a man
who will take you for granted;
they don’t understand
what I’d do for you.”
(Hinges scream shut,
alarmed by the cue.
Globular black eyes,
twin pin-****** of tar
stare at me, unblinking;
This has gone too far.
I’d squeeze them right out
of your birdie head—
my heart was your marble;
it’s my turn, instead.)
But the impulse is nil,
a mellow chill.
I would never do that
of my own true will—
And the use of this cage,
I now clearly see
Is to keep monsters like you
from monsters like me.