I Fell In love With a Pigeon

He flew into my life on a Tuesday.

All feathers, no job.

Smelled like breadcrumbs and bad decisions.

He coo’d at me like I was the last French fry in a drive-thru bag.

And I believed him.

I believed that feathered menace.

We had a good week.

He took me to the park.

Stole fries from toddlers.

Pooped on a Karen.

I was in love.

He said he’d pay me back—

“Just need to get my wings in order.”

But here I am,

broke,

bird-bitten,

and $40 short.

He flew off with a goose.

A goose, Reyna.

She wears sunglasses and says things like “gaslight gatekeep go honk.”

I hope his feathers fall out mid-flight.