Folding inward to myself,
squeezing some emotion free,
something deep escaping,
exposing that
that I cannot contain,
loose in this chaotic world,

it flies away moaning,
declaring
there is more
to us
than a stick stirring a hole,

we have wings
unseen,
burdened with such a great guilt,

perhaps
if we fold inward to ourselves,
we’ll fill the sky.