​Sparrow, my girl’s favourite accessory,
which she keeps close to her, playing in the folds of her clothes,
coaxes onto an outstretched finger,
provokes into pecking her,
my own incandescent desire
provoked without me knowing who I can play with
but needing that same distraction from love’s pain
I believe she seeks, a quieting of the intolerable –
if only I could play with you the way she does
and ease my own suffering!
 
I would concede each round to you, sparrow, as happily as
Atalanta welcomed the distraction of an apple in the middle of a race
she yearned to lose, to give in to love.....