for clodia

ea amat
minding i am to
fly away, she holds me on a
tether tied around her finger and my
heart, so it is my hurt that
threatens
when i stretch the
distance taut.

myself am not so wise, i
crave the clench of the hand that
says i am worth holding tight.


-----------------------------
once, there was a woman named clodia who came from such a pretty family that her surname was pulcher, beautiful. there was a poet. what their story was, we can't know anymore. she stayed real but the only words left are his.

and the sparrow, no one has found.