Ada Limón

Oh let us be
a bird flying wholly for the sake
of flying

I want to be something entirely without words.

we’re small and
flawed, but I want to be
who I am, going where
I’m going, all over again.

Say we never get to see it: bright
future, stuck like a bum star, never
coming close, never dazzling.

We’ll say unbelievable things
to each other in the early morning—

I’d choose the moon, always the sister moon.

Cold, comely queen of the sky.

It’s been a long time

since I’ve wanted to die,

it makes me feel

like taking off

my skin suit

and seeing how

my light flies all

on its own

I’m thinking about people and trees and how I wish I could be silent more, be more tree than anything else, less clumsy and loud, less crow, more cool white pine, and how it’s hard not to always want something else, not just to let the savage grass grow.

I want to give you something, or I want to take
something from you. But I want to feel the exchange,
the warm hand on the shoulder, the song coming out
and the ear holding on to it

But love, I’ll concede this:
whatever state you are, I’ll be that state’s bird,
the loud, obvious blur of song people point to
when they wonder where it is you’ve gone.