RUBBLE

We, like the beasts
And dark creatures of love,
Devour delicate wings
Of little birds
Grinding their bones
To dust at our feet.

When Spring came
Cities began their crumble
And soon after it became an avalanche,
Even the trees are filled with rot now.

We paced these voids
Until the last shore
Where, in the black rubble,
Something crucial in you left

The wind blew soft circles in your hair
And untied your soul
Throwing it out into the night.