Wings

You say you love my soul -- you keep that love,
This bodiless love -- do not love me like
A brother, father, cousin, uncle, friend.
I tire of these friendships. A gray shrike
Gives mice less pain when he impales them on
The woody thorns than you do when you turn
Down my proposals and advances. Hawks
Can see less clearly than I can your stern
Core deep below your smiling ice -- you smile
At my desire and will not see the fire,
The underlying pain, the love I feel
That comes with each of my half-joking pleas.
And yet you hide your head from everything,
More ostrich than ostrich to the way
I feel -- I will not listen to excuses
About your lack of time, such words won't sway
Me to believing you. So tell me now
Instead how you must really feel for me,
And keep all other cold considerations
Aside -- just let desire be your key.