a mockingbird landed on her window
turning his head, he peered through
the cold glass.
she kept looking at her phone,
perhaps it would light up the way it used to
and he would call;
why do men always leave?
nobody answers that.
a man does what he feels no matter
how you love him, no matter how you hold him
and touch him and whisper through the night:
give him everything he wants.
but, those days are gone.
she watched her phone,
began to sing