She has the seething voice of wild magick
is she an angel?
she bears no halo
does she radiate measurably or penetrate the world with her melting opal eyes
feeling into a reach of forever with the silken touch of love or nothing?
statistics show her image to remain upon the retina for .166 seconds, on
the average.
does her sweet pink tongue speak new of the dead and does she
furrow aside the atmosphere with gestures, tasting as she sings?

the throbbing air about her brightly crashes
is she an angel?
she is an angel on the hard white sheet of summer
when every second is jumping with blood and the highway heaves
in hot glass ripples like a bad mirror

on occasion as she will
her quiet spills
she is an angel.

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