I used to walk like you do,
Submerged in comfortable circumstances;
Warm corners among laughing people:
Searching---
Always searching.

We are desperate beings.
Floating about from lover to lover,
From chance to chance---
Over and backward again,
Until we find the one Bird
Whom we think we may keep forever.

We lose ourselves in laying down
And gazing too lovingly at their souls.
We forget how to walk.

When the Birds fly away,
They take our hearts and reason---
Leaving behind only their
Feet
And traces of their feathers.

It hurts to walk among you, now.
I limp and seem to waltz awkwardly
Through my day--- never quite as sure,
Never the same.

I will -never- be the same.