louise

she is a lot of things:
a poem;
not Leav or Kaur but
something more complicated than words.

a gun-
a machine gun shooting somethings like flowers
or birds who chirped 
and her song I do not have to understand.

I listen
with my eyes fixed on her beak while she speak.

I die
everytime her words pierce my ears.

She sings the same song everytime but when she does, I still close my eyes.