If you were a bird,

you would be

a pileated woodpecker:

rare and striking,

red feathers glowing,

poking in the rotten wood

for bugs.

 
If you were a snake,

you would be

a rubber boa:

beautiful and harmless,

docile in my hands.

 
If you were mine,

I would love you

more than dragonflies love summer.

 
But it is not so.

You are a distant mountain,

shrouded in mist.

 
You are a wild ocean,

never crossed.

You are another galaxy,

worlds away from mine.

 
You will never be tamed.