Thornbird

A thorn bird came into my life
With wings made of stinging nettles

Where did you get
Your thorns from? I asked
Why are your wings
Made from stinging nettles?

She could not remember how
She could not remember
Her blue, blue wings
Or her golden crest
Or her long, long black tail

But she stays here until the full moon turns red
Talking of conflict and misunderstandings
sleeping where the cat slept
rolling up in the cold blanket of the night

her plumage is spotted with the blood of kisses
beneath her is a lake of tears
a crown of thorns was her greatest gift
and love has been her endless quest

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