VINYL POETRY

Volume 4, October 2011

BIRDIE
Brittany CavallaroView Contributor’s Note

Pax, Fortuna, Salus

You took the auspices of my neck and my dark eyes, watched me pry apart a hollow bone. Outside, under the fluttering streetlights, the girls fingered their collars, touched each other with quick, disappointed hands
like mockingbirds picking through a burned plain. This night last year you laid a fire beneath my mantle and when we brought it to the black yard it guttered in the air. There are no places for you that he hasn’t first touched. There are your hands in the back room, instructing your birds for their flight. When we met, you coiled up my long hair, you pushed your lips against my neck. Inviso aves, you said. Build me my nest.