What a shrewd, cruel man I am.
Cleverly hiding my emotions
away from reproach.
If I were a bird,
my feathers I'd show.
Plumage bright and vainglorious,
attracting little birds that know not better.
Til the quick snap.
Affronted by their doting,
repulsed by their affection,
I churn.
Hazarding nothing,
expecting everything,
I draw blood for cowardice,
and call it love.