The sound of wings:
it is, it was. I heard it.
I wrapped it and gave it to you:
you wanted it. “You” were my mind
creating a “you” who wanted
this sound I heard and gathered
not knowing which thing would please you.
Here are the many scars
my hands knew in work
and all the stains of finding.
Stains and scars of my hands and fingers.
I work in all the colors.
What would please you?
The animal eats it: your pleasure disappears.
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