jon's bird

it is late, and there is a bird on my computer.
a bird.

he is looking at me with eyes like a fiercely blue and green bird. he has a small small beak watching me, dead on. i blink. he does not flinch or move a muscle. he is omnipotent in his world. he does not know mine though.

he is beautiful like seamless dresses with couch flower prints are beautiful.
do you know what this means?

he is the most beautiful creature i have ever seen. i am in love with him. aren't you? can you not be? is it possible?

his tail is longer than my forearm. it curls and curves, dyed teal with God's oil paints. the bird's breast is scarlet. wings, a blending Matisse of greens and aquas and deep blues. the hues bleed into one another.

his head has spiny feathers like wire shocked into vivid green color with a volt of electricity. his eyes are wide. so are mine.