fuck fuck fuck Yellowbird by Andrea Gibson just breaks me

point me in the direction of glory
I will run toward a tiny hand in the most wounded corner of Palestine
dipping a brush into a can of yellow paint
to paint a feather on a wing on a wall
that is so tall
only yellow birds can escape
but when they do
they carry the hearts of children on their backs
and when their wings flap
they make the sound of anthems being replaced with sky
and I swear
I could see their shadows pass across your glowing face
the night you said you have never given birth to a child
but you tear every time you write a poem 

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