To Be Reborn

If I was reborn as the Griffon vulture

I’d be able to fly the highest,

I’ll hug the clouds and kiss the sun.

I would graze Earth’s last shield,

And taste a bit of heaven

So I could bring a piece to you.

If I was reborn as the Charlotte spider

I’d heal your wounds.

I’ll clean the toxins in your heart

Inflicted by my hands made of tar.

Then after using my frail silk,

Crush me with your bloodless hands,

So you’d still be alive.

But for my sins, I won’t become a vulture.

I’ll choke in the empty air.

The sun will scorch my wings

Worse than it did to Icarus,

For trying to reach God

And seek my own forgiveness.

Twins are bound by Tungsten thread,

Inviolable and everlasting,

But I severed it with rusted scissors.

I stripped your untarnished wings,

To make a bloody coat

Out of your innocence.

Satin turned into a Kevlar.

Then Kevlar into wool.

Piano keys turned into bullets.

Then bullets into lilies.

My affection turned into a whip.

Then the whip into your casket.

Now I eat fruits whole.

Now clothes don’t come in sets.

Only my hands will get old.

I’m even left without your silhouette

And the scent of your cologne.

I wish you’d be reborn instead.

Your scars can turn into birthmarks.

Your bruises into stretchmarks.

Your tears into freckles.

And your cries, finally, into laughter.

I wish you’d be reborn instead.

My hugs were made of greed.

My kisses, deceit.

And my promises of lead.

I wish you’d be reborn instead.

You’d become a dove

While I can be condemned.

I wish you’d be reborn instead.

So you can be freed from my thread.