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.