and the birds

i built a castle for you

made from fantasy bricks

crystal pink and jubilant

some of the windows

just framed by stories and things

not of any worth

the walls my twiggy arms

at times scuffed and bent

but strong

when the winters came

the foundation

a mere pond thawing

no life just murk

so i gave you pillars

adjusted from my short legs

lifting you from your knees

as you held tight

to the roses and wine glass

in your hands

and the birds

i could never get them to sing

for you Mutter

my throat unable

to find its stolen words

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