All Is Unfair in Love and War

by Jacynth Apora

Flight
Feathers of birds do nothing
when their eyes cannot see
that the person in the bell jar
cannot save them
if their heartbeat is as loud and as final
as the thud on the glass
Fletching of an arrow
immortal, inanimate
Makes the wind drag
Bell jar becomes a quiver
arrowheads face-up in this baggage

Attachment
Red bullseye
her favorite color
She says she has no favorite color
but she is inclined to choose red
on so many little occasions
One of these occasions being
the bird blood on the glass
She is what makes the wind drag
Her heart is immortal
since I have terrible aim
But at least I can see
that she cannot save me
She is the blunt end of the arrow
And I’m the short end of the stick