The feathers of your wings

The feathers of your wings
Sometimes makes my nose itch
And my eyes water
Well worth it for the fresh breeze
Of your arrival
And the warmth
As we share our nest

I am not

I am not a microscope
But there is a lack of focus
I am not a freeway
But there are traffic jams
There are accidents
I am not a radio
But there are voices
There is music
There is static
I am not that
But there is this
There is we
There is me
There is [ ]

Ah, I am that, [ ]
Say that, [ ], three times fast, uncle
And hand me the fucking map