Drown My Drops

She wrote me a letter in feathers,

But I don't know Chinese-- Is there

a breeze today?

I saw her sitting in the windowsill

Did she know violets come alive in the night?

I wanted a change, so I turned around,

But she was still around and I was

sick with the grief of flowers

I couldn't determine the weather, but she

Took me for hours-- Or maybe 

it was decades

Eastern Standard Time. Maybe I'm lying

It could have been no time at all. Yet

She wrote in feathers. I was sick.

Did she know I saw stars? Could she

see them in the twilight?

A wreath of ocean drowned our drops

Bees betrayed the sunlight-- She saw 

them move again.

My daylight burned a little. Did I see?

Did you see them sinking in its warmth?

Maybe its the sickness. The stars again.

Couldn't we leave? Leave the window;

maybe we'll cry.

Reviews

[lifethroughwords]

"did she know i saw stars? could she see them in the twilight?"....did she see me for who i was. "Couldn't we leave? Leave the window; maybe we'll cry."
All i can say is that id like to be inside your head. This is really powerful

[Meek McGee]

Haha trust me, you definitely do not want to go in there. Thanks for reading!

[lifethroughwords]

thats why i want to go there lol but sure no problem

[Aethereal]

Birds sitting on windowsills do write love letters in feathers as they remind us of all of our past relationships through their form of Chinese picture writing, a sinking sickness. “Maybe it’s the sickness”

[Meek McGee]

Thank you for reading! Who would've thought a review could be more poetic than the subject itself?

[Aethereal]

You're welcome! Language waits for perception to give it meaning.