Beginning

The bitter corridors of my ear could have been full of your sweet warbling. My cold heart could never have stayed cold, with the dancing beats of your heart. My lightless bruise-blue pupils could have been lit by the flash of your gaze. My hands could have been your nest. I passed by unseeing, though, and vanished into the silence of my coffin. What did I do to you? What did I do to myself? Lovebird! ...