we are not common. we are “ other than “ and then some.
more like a gaggle of geese in a windmill forged in the furnace
of lost tongues. cute and abbreviated . but on fire
like an ice song.
we keep the heat where the actual gods of our demise
laugh too hard to be soft now, because
"Gods".
i sleep in your dreams now
like a nocturne in a fable.
i keep our secrets where they are naked
and too broad to be discreet
at sunrise.
i assume you have wings
and therefore the night
will have to chase
us both.
too fleet to be real.
too genuine
to be
less
than
Us.