Pactum concupis

I can't fly through cold air

like you and I don't have the

strength it takes

to migrate.

But I can make coffee

and take my pills

and write about you

and love you.

I feed you

black sunflower,

orange suet,

& Tchaikovsky at twilight.



You know I can't fly

and could die trying

but I'm writing about you

and maybe someday

we can

trade.