I choked on the bones of a blackbird
you'd baked into a pie.
You pried my locked jaws open,
held me in your vise-like thighs,
and slinked your fingers down my throat
till they willowed; now they won't
unring the bell.
Star scorned ribs
with the nail half in
the hickory tree dressed in a noose
I turned that blackbird loose.
For Open Link Monday at Real Toads