i want to live in your attic

not like a ghost but like a secret bird.
maybe like a music box & on rainy days
just like a holy umbrella. all morning 
i have been mapping routes to your porch.
highways like licorice spin & twine.
my heart is a wax seal & i close a thousand
love letters each more desperate. keep me 
please keep me. i find a box of wedding rings
in my closet. they chatter about the old future.
loud & urgent similies find me for the new depths.
when i step into bed i find the sinking lake.
soon there will be no turning back.
already i knit the months together wondering
when i can be a curtain in your living room.
i have been exhaling on dandelions
in the hopes they'll hear me ask to 
take the mountain apart & put them back
into boxes. in your attic i imagine there's
dusty light & all kinds of beautiful nonsense.
i find fairies laying in wake & a set
of once-loved mason jars. tell me, 
how would you like me to perch? i can be
quiet & still & dormant. your lover is
a volcano. my care is bright & endless
& almost always a little destructive.
for a boy i once parked my car, four-ways laughing,
on the moon. can you imagine what i would do
for someone like you? i make sacrifices 
to the trees: fruits & nuts & incense.
i ask my own bones to have less corporeality.
if only if only i was a pilot & i flew myself
right through the head of your whisks. if only
i was a sleeping person who could not have
to want so combustibly. i will not set
your attic on fire. i will not i promise
but my promises are contingent on 
the direct of the wind. i shave my head
with a cliff side. cry sheepishly
& under the covers so the Gods don't see
how weak i've become. i can be quiet
you won't even know i'm up there. 
i'll train my feet in silence. i'll inhale
only once ever ten or so years. & on a night
when you have no other thoughts but touch
i will be ready for you. not like a doll
or a china set but like a secret bird.

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