the peacock

what makes
this bird, is it a bird,
this peacock
open his
wonderous wings.
the iridescent blues
and reds, emerald.
the eyes
of it in a fan of
glory.
what ego
this is. look at me.
pick me.
I am the one.
see what I can do.
behold my resume of wings
and color
they're all spread wide
and beautiful,
all for us,
our future together,
or for someone
just like you.