THE BLACK SWAN

 I can’t dance, I can’t fly, I can’t return

I can’t weep, I can’t breath.

I burn sorrow’s fire

Heat beyond bearing,

Singed black feathers,  

Fluttering in empty streets of longing,

Lost hope, and memories of delicious laughter.

No one applauds the miraculous muscle

The unstoppable beauty poised,

Waiting the last leap.

In the quiet turning

No looking back

Only imagination opens

To the unknown.

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