Sincerity Assured.

Another bridge burnt, she places with steady hand two years on the chopping block. A baby bird alights upon her shoulder and looks into her eye like the past. He's been having dreams of her, contemplating some way to go back in time. He's been leaving behind traces of guilt like spent up moments loose in the current. He wants what he's lost. She coos in his ear as a mother bird would. He realizes that he's in love and there is nothing there but an empty memory all cut up and groaning with all of the dreams and anonymity he knows now. What were those times on the platform connecting the dots and feeling like there was no way to feel but good? The moment when a confession of affection was given he had a stitch in his step like the yarn wrapped around his heart strangling. It was because of the hurdles in the track, the entire three years dwindling trying to pretend he didn't have the feelings he had just so he could say he wasn't a home wrecker. But he was. And he still is. And it just pours out like a scarf wheeling from the needles of that endearing old woman on her porch caring and dear. Knitting something for the past and now the future. Oh this ever present heart forces him against the winds. He'll just continue flying against it and curse the barriers that he doesn't even know exist. And mother bird lets out her wings so far away as he just flutters and wheels across the sky like some tender moth spun up in the web. He sees it though. And he wishes he was there.