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.

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