The Humble Rock Dove

In prison,
We wrote bright light letters of freedom.

After hospital,
A spoiled ending,
A brutal March spoiled start.
You went for my weak-spot,
In my unhealed heart.

You seared my skin with emotion,
You burnt my soul with devotion to a lie.
When I see us represented,
As united by the sky,
I see the nature of all things alive.

I see the truth of a cycle of love,
That will only decay,
In the manner that stars only burst,
Or into black holes of void,
That devour without remorse,
In that other way.