This mothering instinct is a rust colored
variety of gathered clouds and chain-link
fences in piles by the side of our
white house.
Even the leaves rust away & brown
and orange spots on the railing.
I am not sure I know how to stop it
because I leave nests in the windows.
‘Oxidizes’ was vocabulary a pigeon
would vocalize, whose feathers
are more dust than lightning bugs.
With the hornet sting, I ask for endurance
and try to hold the red bump until
the same rust colored clouds
take your skin away/
peel at our eyelids (from the underside)
(and mostly the same color
when not sleeping
on the ride
home.)
I did not try to care for you
and gave nothing for the sting.
Your sad and slightly curious blue
eyes corrode my skin, or
what I thought was soon
to brown to dust.