NaPoWriMo Day 8

 Bird superior

(Leonora Carrington's painting of Max Ernst)

If I had a muse, I'd

dress him elderly in pink feathers,

make him drag for art.

He'd exist, as all muses do,

in a frozen tundra, sigil

of unicorn, meek yet all about himself,

a bird superior,

yet quite ridiculous- dainty yet savage,

a coquette and a harpy.

He and Art would exist there-

I could visit and thaw my own absurdities,

where he parades, all mermaid tail and yellow stocking.

It seems as though I long to live with dust

and heat and in the warmer skin of me alone-

not for me, the pale shiver of the World,

thin as a gentleman, an advocate

for permissions I no longer need or dress for.

And my dreams agree.