Born of bird shite,
your nest is crowned
high in the old oak.
Wintering yellow,
a cannibal with no
taste for light.
Sapping lifeblood
with kisses, you swell
pregnant with mist fruit
catching
the eye
of a curious magpie
That flies your arrow,
planting the tip into
an apple tree,
you take a bite
green your limbs
with heads of white
