goatkid

Shall i say, shall i say, what rules my head these days and churns my stomach like my mind? a twirling, flighty thing a bird, so carelessly alighting here and there, to never settle on a choice for very long. do i tell her that she walks followed quickly by my thoughts, shakes the water from her hair, her hands and to the bedroom where we laid alone, an opportunity missed to put this way to rest, but i feel this hateful bird will die quite soon.