Not only tears,
sliding down the cheek
but wings, plaited
silver-feathered folding
over spine's boney
protrusions. And so
we learn the role of
gravity, of things
that drop from heaven
burning, never seen
again. There are
mysteries we can't
explain like love
or light or angels.
As for me, I never
stop to breath or sleep,
roaming with my torch-lit
eyes pulled away, into
a never-ending radiant
golden glittering.
No comments:
Post a Comment