Rare Birds

I followed you
long before Mahomet went to the mountain.
Sucked in by your bee-stung lips
and pre-cocktail days,
I would have loved myself
had you asked me.
There we were,
rare birds,
two young phoenixes and not a match in sight.

Now you breathe pills
and I exhale radiation.
Love for us is as rare
as we once were.
Here we are,
two old phoenixes,
lumbering up Vesuvius
and everywhere we turn
someone’s offering a light.

No items found.