I had a dust pile, for the purpose of entertainment
Organized it into three equal lines. I then whisked
The dust with my pinky’s talon until it ruffled like feathers.
I closed my eyes and flew with the wings onto foreign surfaces.
I entered unfamiliar bedrooms-
Told secrets about humanity
To varnished dressers, slept on radiators
And perfumed the air
With the scent of burning dust,
Snuck into a soft-drink
Collapsed with a gulp
And explored a biological abyss.
When I neared extinction,
I clung to a business card-
Hid inside the black indented letters
That assumed identity.
When I was handed back to I
We treated each other like strangers.