a raven’s beak might catch
something of similar shine
a luster that seems to hide
in the gleam of your blue eyes
the branches that begin to snap
off a winter tree’s delicate grasp
they might begin to understand
how i break in your absence
for when you are away
i wither and i decay
like the raven’s distant caw
i meld into something raw
in your absence, my heart, it writhes
could i claim our souls are tied?
for this winter i miss you more
than a raven misses its stolen hoard.











