A shame descends upon The Falcon
Who lingers, follows, obsessed with images
Of you— The darling creature that hops lonely
In the morning, afternoon and evening’s clutches.
The ugly that is beauty without an eye to behold her
Has stricken a face with storied blemishes.
The carnal desire of acquisition coldly
And calmly rises and bows as The Falcon watches
YOU. The Falcon shuffles behind in steps with ether;
Odorless matter. Consuming, blushing, red-tipped gashes
Creep onto the fallen body, cursing all that is holy—
Now in the hands of silent ashes.
Still, be still, wait for nothing to appear,
The fate of her blue head darkens and clashes
With the warmth of the hands that feather
His heart— like death; Bound with stitches.
It is YOU to fear as an unearthly memory of the meager
Beauty; a devastated obsession. The suspended night finishes
With the weight of an inhaled hush— that slowly
. tingles just before The Falcon’s light diminishes.