Her Belly Made of Wings

 

The furred wings of her belly 

raise up, down

her belly made of wings

wings covered in fur

open slightly, shut

no need for full length

no need for that.

 

She has always known –

her breath came from wings

her belly was winged

her lungs simply existed

far less important than the

furred wings of her belly – 

touch the faint breeze

that they make.

 

It took him months to

feel that breeze

to see the wings curved around her navel

to see them clearly

as she smiled at him, breathing

as she smiles at him,

air pushes through pelts

pelts sprung from skin over bone.

 

As

many years together

she never cared that

he breathed differently than she

he

knows her breath 

as a prayer

as a song

as air pushes through pelts

pelts sprung from skin over bone

as she smiles at him, his head in her lap,

the fur parts and sways

the fur strokes his face

the fur envelopes, embraces, veils 

his face, his lungs, his heart.