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about the birds - Finch Greene

time

was a

slow

drip


flock of heavy-

winged things

caged in my chest

made every inhale

weigh like thousands


hands were unsteadier than this—

hard to believe—it was

hard to believe, harder still

to carry anything

more than myself most days


& the story wasn’t picture-book

no answer landed in my lap

until it did


& i say that magic dawned

a blueberry moon in a pink sky

but it was just music, a song

that stuck a new name in my mouth


letters rolled off my tongue

& the cage rattled

all those wings kicked up

more than dust


saw a smaller me

inside of everything, a hurricane

of dirt & starlight—

the pieces weren’t all together

but the shape was there

& i finally had something to call it


gave it to a boy i thought i loved

& he shouted it across crowded rooms

& of course i fluttered

all feather-tremble & clang

i liked how it was the only way he knew me


told it to a girl who loved me

more than i knew how to ask for

& she sent it, caps-locked, across space

said it even when i wasn’t in the room

& it chorused around her family’s dinner table


& when i heard it echoed back

when it wrapped around me

& all the space i was trying to fill

i swear


i flew

 

Finch Greene (they/she) is a poet from the new york city area. they are a virgo, a cat mom, and very, very tired. you can probably find them reading smutty fanfic or painting their nails.

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