the crow

look into the crow's read eyes.

wake your gaze, like a woman dearly parted,

through these two bowls of inky black.

(what thoughts skate across its mind?

a taut flash of danger, and then serene.)

its muscles ripple spryly

to let the light suppose its feathers iridescent,

oil spill, bated like breath.

a nearby rustle, the spell ruptures.

the crow snaps

up

into the sky.