The Trap

From a place above the mud,
a bird fell and struck, a force
pressed down to slow spilled blood.  

Sometimes the safest spaces
are the ones that hold you 
indefinitely.  You learn to love
what traps you.

So say the stars whose bird-like bones
sewn tightly to its thick, black fabric
frozen stiff and still like photographs 
of falling snow-

stagnant, light-filled, beautiful. 

Until you know the meaning
of forever,

stay here.

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