A large raven lit not so lightly, descended
Quick by my bathroom windowsill
With his claws clicking, caws stripping
All movement from me, I froze to see
His jointed craggy feet held fast to gutters
And that once living (still alive?) thing
He roughly pecked, pulled hard apart
Perhaps a replica of my quivering heart
Pink and tightly gripped and glistening
Pieces of the thing dripped, dangled from his beak
As he flicked his head and turned to me
Our eyes met brief with equal parts, dark
Repulsion deep, and curiosity
Safe it seemed with the screen between
He returned unphased to his eviscerate prey
So I brushed my teeth and washed my face
While he washed down my meaty heart
with rainwater
-me
Author of painting unknown
sometimesihatemycat 