i love a bird

I am in love with a bird. My bird loves me too.

But it’s a bird and I don’t know when it would fly to never come back

My love gives the bird an anchor a sky a tree to come back.

But my bird cares about the other birds that don’t have a tree

I only have one tree, my bird has thousands of places to be.

My bird comes back to me no matter how far she flies,

I send my leaves to her every time she takes a while.

I love my bird so much that sometimes I hate my roots.

I am in love with a bird. My bird loves me too.

I want to fly with my bird but I also want to remain as this tree for her to rest.

I miss my bird but I trust my love.

I question my bird enough for her to know I care.

I hold my bird enough for her to not hate my hand.

People see my bird flying in the sky unaware that the bird loves this tree and its roots.

My bird carries an important piece of me everywhere it flies.

I believe in my bird and her flights.

I am in love with a bird. My bird loves me too.

About a few Noises

​When I look at a women, I see colours 

When I look at a man I see black and white.

Elderly women still wear colours 

But after a certain age men typically stick to white shirts and black bottoms.

When I look at a man in his eyes while he sits across the room I see him begin to improvise his body language in a way he thinks might be impressive.

When I let a women know that I am looking at her she continues to be lost in her thoughts and letting her voice disappear under the noise of others.

Sitting at my usual place on a weekend I spend an hour listening to the noises that surround me.

I hear some rock music album playing in the cafe 

I hear batch of fresh graduates catching up with their college folks dreaming about their future destinations and being nostalgic about the past times. And trash talking about the folks that are absent. They are so involved in their group discussion that they forget that her are invading my chaotic thoughts.

I hear a girl speaking with a partner on the phone, waiting for her friends to arrive.

I hear a dog curling near my table to warm up for the chilly breeze about to hit him.

I hear the sound of people flying 2 feet above the ground, forcing the slower once to fly faster.

I hear the footsteps of the people walking in and out of the café continuing on their opinions about behaviours.

I hear a queen walking with her toddler trying to make him obey her commands.

I hear the breeze now giving everyone a chill some noticing it while others letting themselves be in someone sun

I hear the shop owner counting his earnings and putting some in his pocket before he pulls down the shutter to fly off to his castle.

The noises let me dissolve in them, letting their existence be the only thing that lives.