I swoon like purple martens in the evening

Over you.

Sometimes mistaken for bats or large bees,

In reality, I’m awkward when I’m in love.

But in my own mind, a legend, like the martens are,

So useful in my area,

Eating 40,000 mosquitoes a night.

And so the one that understands 

Will build a home for me on a pole,

Just the perfect height in the sky,

So that I might build my nest

And make my home in that abode,

So that I may swoop through the twilight

Of the dusk.

Now, such as these martens,

I don my musk

To come and swoon over you,

To flutter about your neck

And fly, 

To love you in ways that only I can,

In the only ways I know,

And hope they satisfy your heart, your soul,

And make you smile 

While we have this glorious here-time together.

-jenn