Blood-stained feather underneath her arm,
Above her tongue.
Smooth, red drink. Thickened barbs.
“Why?” she cries.
Telescopic eyes pierce the vaults of heaven.
Stiffened vanes, clipped wings stretched out to dry.
She tries to fly.
Scissor paws, growling teeth clentched beside her.
Imprisoned. Raped from her destiny.
I pray, drained, embalmed from hope
But I pray, still,
That she flies one day.