A Trembling Resonance Of Wings 

—there is no love without friction

We wander the rainforest of wet skin.

Each twig—love’s unfinished sonnet—found by light.

My fingers press a slow vibrato on her violin.

Our sighs crescendo, swelling in adagio flight.

Hummingbirds hover over feral hair—the color of rosin

Shadows gather—drowned, quiet.