Someday, when you are alone, you will come for me..
By then, the corn in my body, will have sprouted many, many children..
And my wings, the ones that scared you away, will have dried, gone pale, and then golden..
If you had waited, you would know (but what is the use of knowing now)
You would know, that the wings on me, are the wings of the homing pigeons
You will see, when you come, the high cheekbones and the still sharp nose.
And i will show you
The downcast eyes, the covered head.
Someday, when you are alone, you will come for me.
Picture : A sculpture i saw at the Heard Museum, Arizona. The sculpture was so powerful that the blog post wrote itself.