Another Feather
Another feather
Flutters and falls
From fingers
Fickle and cruel
That pull or pluck
Twist and tug
Till wings
Are stripped and bare
But that’s what lovers do
Bind and clip
With innocent joy
Flutters and falls
From fingers
Fickle and cruel
That pull or pluck
Twist and tug
Till wings
Are stripped and bare
But that’s what lovers do
Bind and clip
With innocent joy
15 comments:
do all lovers do that? Do we do that unconsciously even if we try not to do it consciously?
I think everyone does it.
too everyone.
it's human nature to alter things to our own preference.
like lovebirds.
Neatly set. The paradox that freedom to love (or freedom of any sort) can only exist by submission to 'bind and clip'. I suspect something is amiss however if out of the 'cruel pluck' another more glorious set of plumage does not emerge.
spot on and so true
Ouch.
That's a pretty dismal outlook.
Nice.
But love can let you fly as well sometimes.
Love doesn't let you fly.
It makes you fall.
what else is a journey with pain at the end?
either a crash or fall...
Inc....love is always an ornithologist's dream. It takes us up to wonderful places. New plumage. Lovely cloud views. Soft air.
Look up Inc, always look up.
look up indeed :)
and whilst staring heavenward in obscure bliss
the ground reaches out and takes you
hard and heavy
gritty rape muddy penetration
as you slam
into it
as sky deserts you
Sometimes even the mud can be fun though. Reptilian states are sometimes great.
Mud pie anyone?
Sky never deserts you anyhow. Rainbows make all skies colourful.
Wonderful optimist.
thankyou
Yes, always an optimist.
I write words on bellies,
Words on the sky.
They say that the sky is the limit, but I'm not so sure. Higher Inc, higher.
take it to the max
and beyond :)
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