even if it's false;
i want the succor of a thousand down goose comforters
forty gaulouises
seven rainy days
and twenty six comfortable silences
do not hide it
they hiss
give us a look
they preach
together they drag it out, into the cold winter daylight
they lay it there, out on the ice
in the open.
it flops once,
twice,
three times.
then it lays still
what happened
this they will forever muse
from a distance i watch
and i understand;
it was too fragile, and it's surroundings too beautiful.
it couldn't handle lying there,
compared with the harsh beauty of the world
so it did the noble thing
and sacrificed itself
