For my lion who shot back, from your invisible man. And for my baby bird, here is that story about the song.

“Ótaminn setur í ný batterí/ Og hleður á ný” -Sigur Rós, Ný Batterí

The song had played
or maybe not played
but had certainly been there

I was alone in the woods
I wanted to pick a fight with a bear
How else can you explain it
What I was doing
No shoes
No light but the moon through the trees
Wandering in off the path

I was in the creek
I needed to bless myself with holy water
And small waterfalls are
A kiss from you in the form
Of time and force
I crossed myself, feet like ice
Shivering

I was in the barn
Creeping about like a woodmouse
Nibbling leftover cheese and cookies
Crouching lazily in the shadows
Listening to the crackling snapping hissing
Of the fire dying out
In a big empty space

I was tearing myself away from
Another self that I could not be
Scared of the dark
That comes after
That was before and I was
Excising her like cutting out a splinter
Holding myself down and
Lancing a sore and
She poured out disgusting and vile
I petted her like a mother does her stillborn
I left her in the woods to die

The song kept you there with me
I thought it was him that it was bringing back
Love that made me ache
But it was the memory of his body
The expression of you
Found through his body’s singing
For he does know you, too

But he did not want his body to sing to me
If I was a bearfighter, a fallseeker, a still growing shoot
Splitting skin with such fervent
Lack of shame and tact

And I was those things
I wanted to be those things
So I had to learn to walk away

I need you unfettered
Like in the song that held the memory of the body
Slow and hard and every dark thing
Unfolding into the softest
Yielding
I need you in tongues
So that I will know you completely

The song had played
Or maybe not played
As I learned to sing of you myself

I was in the field
Incense of silkweed and resin
Lying on my back
I thought that I would stay for seven shooting stars
But people had seen a coyote and
The last one took so long I almost gave up
The fireflies put on their show, gentle and constant
Growing nearer to me the longer I stayed
They blinked from my arm, my leg, my hair
I was as part of the field as the grass or the goldenrod
And just when I thought I couldn’t wait anymore
The seventh star came

I knew you then
Empty of everything and bigger than I could think of

The song was there
Just under my skin
Someone could play me like a fiddle
If they knew you
The way I do