“It was not like everyone had said.
Not like being needed,
or needing; not desperate;
it did not whisper
that I'd come to harm. I didn't lose

my head. No, I was not
going to leap from a great
height and flap
my wings.
It was in fact

the opposite of flying:
it contained the wish
to be toppled, to be on the floor,
the ground, anywhere I might
lie down. . . .

On my back, and you on me.”