conversations with birds: the phoenix favors fire over earth

I do not fear the terrible angels

their voices embroidered cloaks torn across

the sky, their heavily belted bodies,

strong hips, shield-bright eyes.

I do not fear them in the hard city.

Their draperies snag on its remote spires.

They drone in its unnavigable sky

like helicopters.

The angels I fear are mute

their wings waxy as aster petals

their bodies translucent carapace

curled grub-like in flight.

They don’t descend to the deathbed

swords drawn to the rift: death from life.

They hatch, insensate as seeds in

fresh turned earth.


What they require of me? 

that gently I take off

the look of suffered wrong

which often a little hinders

the pure movement of their spirits.

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About The Odalisque

I am the odalisque who lives in an oblelisk. I converse with birds.

converse. carrier pigeon post.

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