Tawûsê Melek

lush coated ohs and eyes
as he stalks by
on eggshells
crushed under the weight of pride
I wake in the night still
convinced I hear
his whisper of ax and erd
those eggs I break
and eat
only nourish to colour
baked brittle
create stories, if heard
of who I was and who I will be
let his eyes be pulled
full
into the green mosaic
does he not see
the couple
curled up on the forest floor?
it’s us, before
the telling
sent us into flight
it’s us
throwing our eyes
to the sky through a crown of trees
to a heaven that simply is
even as knowledge told us
it cannot be