Fly Rods

My flighty soul
Tugging at your
Steel Grip
Tearing skin from flesh
Sorting the good from the bad
Inside one body.

You brand me
With your iron kiss
As I wash over you
In a trickle of life
Dripping from your breastplate
To the ground below
Seeping into the soil
In search of new beginnings.

A falcon at your arm
You clasp my talons
Mighty bird, frail human
Titanium hands, brittle bones.

Like a heart I need you
Like a beauty I desire you
But I cannot take you
Not yet
But I fear
That if you let me go
Your branding rod will fall upon
Another
I will be set free
Falcon released
He flies for a while
To return
To an occupied arm.

Our souls fit together
In this puzzle
But not yet
I am not ready
Not yet.

Let me fly
I beg you
I need to feel the air beneath my body
But I need you to be
Patient
And wait for my return
To your homely embrace.