the world is not a sad and broken place, the world is not a sad and broken place...

salty eyes,
untagged with reason,
just
an uninvited saline and sad
bird
perched on the branches
of my thoughts.
i asked her,
kindly
with these salty eyes,
to please fly away.
the salt stings,
and the background noise
of her chirps
is no longer
a smile of wonder,
it is a soft, wailing
melody
(like the pain of the inhale of a
harmonica, sung with eyes shut
and a piercing throat vibrato)
perched with miraculous constancy
amid my web of thoughts,
so tangled they are
opaque.
she only stared back
at me,
though.
her full eyes were
black and empty
and her three toes
gripped the branch
only tighter
as her wings expanded like a fan
only to recoil back to her
statue stance.
her wings aren't clipped,
i saw.
she has flown from her nest,
she is free,
but she stays
to darken my white lies
with her stare,
to mock my unwinged arms
and heavy feet
with her choice,
and to remind me
with her song
that the world is all too often
full of other, louder
wailing birds
singing to us
of broken bodies and
broken spirits,
whether we hear them
or not.

DLS