Crow Song

The mother crow sings within my rib cage oh so quietly.

I never heard her before now

No one told me it was hers so much as mine

That the heart bound to my chest

Beats within hers in equal time

Her eye stares back at me across the mirror

We’re born to die together.

To harness my looking glass over that of rose colour

She licks my wounds and sows my unlearning

And when I cry

Her glass is half filled

She turns water into wine

Lets me take the first sip

We and crows are all the same

I need no man above her

Though I make fists around whatever can fit

We harmonize our lament.

The lull of my cradle once quieted her song

And sometimes I miss the silence

But we search to no end  for what we don’t yet know

Asleep against beating chests

Asleep against our own

But only within mine sings the crow mother

As hard as I labour

Her whispers are not unheard

Wisdom spared over company

Never alone to always be lonelier 

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry 

She sings

Though I’ll always be sorrier.