After the early morning ritual of spitting out impurities, 

Washing the hair,

Expiring the warmth of flowing water

Like petals on your back

Licking

 

I am greeted with a bird of a song,

And she sang to me,

 

“The world is a scary place it is

A scary place

 

The world is a scary space it is

A scary space,

 

The world is scary place 

In your face,

 

The world  is a scary place

In your space.”

 

And it hummed like that for a while, 

A hummingbird in flight and grace,

 

Withdrawing with my smile.

 

And then it flew away.