You finally see the jays for what they are—
Squawky, tiresome, beautiful provocateurs
Ethnic-cleansing the branches and bushes
In search of some fair-feathered purity
You imagine must, if it lives, be most like
That first night you kissed her, both drunk
But sober enough to know this meant business,
This was no mere merging of lonely lips
But the beginning of an all-new eternity,
With a cosmology and physics all its own,
Laws of attraction and gravitational pull
Previously unknown and uncharted,
So that the momentary brush and press
Telescoped into past, into this future
Where you shoo the petulant jays away,
Watch as they merge with the sky.
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