Cancer.
It feels as if a bird is caught between the air I breath and exhale.
Lodged up close to my throat in a loving embrace.
Its wings beat a million miles per second in a frenzied attempt to escape.
Slowly the bird molts, its feathers peeling away into small flakes of confetti,
I want to gather up the pieces and plaster them on the walls of your rib cage.
Like posters advertising a one day only event, so that every beat of your heart is a celebration.
I want to fold myself up and crawl between your ribs, Like a love note slipped into your locker.
Someday I’ll slip through that thick layer around your heart, as quite and slick as cancer.
I’ll devour your affection like my last breath of air, like the breeze coming off of the little birds wings.
~Myranda Neizer.
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