HEAVY

SELBY PERKINS

 
 

for SF
 
 
the paper wings of my napkin crane 
sagged under the weight of what they were. 
this morning the mirror whispered stories 
i thought i had forgotten 
& each breath turned today into tomorrow 
with the length of it. 
i held the tiny bird in my hands 
lifting each wilting wing with my fingers 
and too, you knelt down 
and washed my feet. 

 
 

∘∘∘