...

I am all here
in Chicago
in quiet stillness
in my lover's arms

I give you back your heart
I give you permission

There is a bird inside a cage,
lonely and loud in its silence.
I have held the key for long enough.
The honor has been mine.
A ceremony is in order for the passing over,
the giving back,
the sad exchange.

A melody is ripe today for composition.
A harmony is written to be hummed.
A requiem is ready in rememberance of how the caged bird sang.
I offer these to you.
They are pitiful gifts,
these pieces of poetry.
They are an excuse,
an apology because I cannot give my wings.

I only hope that you will fly on my pendants of prose.
For feathers are meant to spread across the sky--
feathers are meant to dip into inkwells--
feathers are meant to tickle history--
they are not designed to dwell in cages of the past
and the future has no need for keys.

I ordain you locksmith
I give you back your heart
I give you permission


The line "I give you back your heart, I give you permission" taken from Anne Sexton's "For My Lover, Returning to His Wife"