Lately when I talk to my parents on the phone
my mom thinks the hummingbird in my voice
is pecking at her, so she hangs up the line.

I listen until I hear the dial tone on my side
and that’s when the hummingbird flies away,
back to the treebranch left of my shoulder.

Then, my throat is a garbled empty nest
and that’s when the whole laughing-crying
business starts in.  
My one self sobbing shudders of tears.
My other self chickadee-fucking-cackling
at how stupid, how incredibly infantile.

After a while, my body gets tired of all of this
can’tmakeupitsmindbetweenlaughingandcrying,
and I fall asleep, hands like talons interlocked
and tucked between my knees. Folded petal-like.
Then the bees come, and the hummingbird returns,
and I dream I am better.