We are fascinated by what we are:
fossils and butterflies, seeing ourselves,
in the bodies of animals
and the slow curves of stones.
If we love a tree, we love the latent strength
of rooted limbs and course skin.
If we love a cat, we love our wild indifference.
If we love each other, we love love,
and weep for our broken selves.
If I have feathers, then they were yours to give,
and my arms were made as wings.