oh my heavy heart how can I
make you light again so I don’t have to
lug you through the years and rooms?
Shall I make a sling for you of silk and fingers
in a blue that brings out your bruised red?
I could hang it from the bony strut
of my collarbones to hammock your sad weight.
Would you soften your walls and open
your dark chambers if I did? I’m the one –
the only one – who really loves you
so be light for me, light like the bird
perching on the rose stem, its pronged feet
threaded through the black thorns —
so light the stem barely moves.