Years ago they hurt me, pulled off my wing
to watch me buzz about it demented circles
as I tried to fly, for fly they could not bear to see me do.
Your love. My pleasure.
Frustration grew, I longed for the freedom of flight,
the climactic rise.
In love my wing brew back, twisted, scarred, functional.
Flight returned short hops.
My freedom. Your patience.
You loved me, I flew again,
Higher, if not faster, braver, if not farther.
My twisted wing forgotten for long moments.
Your love. My healing.
I love you.
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