Somnambluebirds

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They come to you in the middle of the night, fly through the open sash window like mis-fired darts from the street corner pub, scuffle and scrape beaks and claws across skirting boards like finger bones on wood.   They murmur their dema...

They come to you in the middle of the

night, fly through the open

sash window like mis-fired

darts from the street corner pub,

scuffle and scrape beaks and

claws across skirting boards like

finger bones on wood.

 

They murmur their

demands in voices like a

choir of schoolgirls

humming the national anthem

slowly, out of tune

with each other, plead with

trembling beaks like

tweezers delicately gripping at

the splinter of a truth.

 

They bother like all beasts

bother, climb to kick at the

ghosted screenburn of

bad old ideas, tug the

sheets in the compass

direction of your last lover,

morbidly mutter the

name your parents would

have called you had you

been deemed worthy of it.

 

They stole your instinct

at birth, and are now

acting on it, indefinitely,

reaching for a conclusion

you have been denied.

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