Do you remember
When we were birds
We preened
We sang sweet songs of our love for each other
But then the song
Became just squawks
And preening became another task, and then
How it became pluck the others feathers out
How it became see how long we could go without wincing in pain
A contest of which could be more miserable
Who could hate the other more without showing it
And when we had no more feathers left to pluck
each of us having finally bested the other-
We flew
Like Icarus, in spiteful triumph-
We fell
-Turning rapidly into horror-
(What had we done
How could we have ever enjoyed this)
-And finally, we drowned.