MAGIC PET SIMURGH
Fumbling around she tries to smooth her new me
She wipes of the drips.
Under her feet I hear the cracking shells.
She is breaking into A run I have foreseen.
New air old lungs rustling like silk
I must seek her soul under thin threads.
I'm looking for the answer, I find it between my teeth.
Nitpick at the stream, breathless it will be.
I'm looking for the questions, I find them under my tongue.
Feathers in my breath, escaping not to catch.
I'm looking for the sentence and doing words will be done.
Feathers never rest, escaping not to catch.