imprint

© Marianne Paul

 i.

my connection to you is like imprinting

at birth - the first thing a bird sees

is its mother and there is nothing to be done

the neural net is knit.

 whether the mother is even the mother at all

doesn’t matter            reason cannot reason

away the connection

you are pressed into me

like a hand pressed into wet mud

fingers spread wide    palm flat   

ii.

pain is a fine line

drawn with precision

across the sky of my body      

i wince 

catch breath

you burn bird

into my shoulder

sear flight

into my skin

imprint me

at my request,

and symbol takes on flesh

the body adjusts to the pain        

you tell me, send out endorphins

and it does

now instead of pain carved

into skin                      i feel feathers

on my back

wind lifting wing

myself spreading

into bird