Angels

Forest fire, water fasting. I'll tell you about flames. Tell you about the mountains and sand dollars. Foaming at the mouth. Bitter and dying.... Cordial in the face of God, passing medicine and steel. Hot steel. As he quietly shows you the ropes. Hands a silvery white like his grey hair. I sea the air I clean, and I clean the air I see. Tonight, we will drink to you. Coming to earth for us. A Saber tooth around his neck. Approaching you. But really it is his counterpart, who slips these fair notes in golden lettering under your door. The Divine mother we may call her. Nestled beneath thorn bushes in the desert. The sun, hot as the rattlesnakes spine at dusk. Daring indeed, forest fire, as he passes the torch to the clouds. To the geese and the waters that now swelter. I find there may be only one true crime. Still this may live only in the decaying meals of heroines. On the alter in petals and flame.