Nesting

Watch my eyes shimmer 

—in the ice with you.

—I want your song, your singing. 

Turn the sun off,

tenderize [me],

lay your voices 

on my stomach. 

Feed me

branches and twigs—

splinters—

I have been abandoned 

by an owl who left

plastic spoons

—twisted into the shape of her home.

Take yourself into me[

]pick me apart and clutch—

dig into me,

make me into a place

beyond ourselves