u-shaped,
a lyre's heart,
plucking these stranded chordae tendineae
until slowly
they all snap off
leaving a bitter crookedness
in its wake.
wet with perspiration,
the slight curvature’s chicanery
prevails.
a polygraph would have
been able to tell,
but i-
i was an inaccessible island rail
the illusion of flying was
so vivid
i hardly realized that
fundamentally I couldn’t.
but you,
you blue-capped ifrita
with your numbing toxins
at the slightest caress
of a bare-backed knuckle-
you,
you peregrine falcon
with your record speeds
notorious abandonment and
nomadic wandering
and me -
desertification to your species-
whistling a melancholy melody
to the tune of the lies
you shaped.