You held the dreams I had for my happiness like a swallow's egg in your outstretched hand. The bird is happy, flitting where it will but knowing where home is A home built together a home that is safe.
How you stand with the yellow-rich yolk slowly dripping, and albumen sliding and all that is fertile and promises and future crushed in a single impulsive spasm. Your heart hid your secrets which kept the bird coming back and the tricks that kept her feeling safe are shoddy and cruel in the light of day.