Angel

I drew light the hand I blessed; touched by tears of forgotten fears. A wistful blame descended, moving through with fasted mirth begrudging the desert s sill. Stranded anew I peaked through guileless glass, a traveler without what mortals might<<<lost in night s more perilous sight.

I stood a fraction of my flight savoring refinement, flattering against relentless gravity s relieve. Coaxed by frivolity and glamorous scents I remained, a weight forthcoming as I gorged. As angels pleased invisible fancies unknown, feelings of the flesh removed resistance combing our intemperance.

The perception of free will is tempting in its infinite privilege. My endurance wanes besought by revelation. Narrowed by comparison as I am soulless, I can still keenly observe its ruthless production. This, my untouchable gift, stokes my reverence and my empty stare for the haunting images I bear.

Such silence engages me, my attractive sorrow. Such separations, such mendacity, afford me this everlasting. As I am ceaseless in my task, I should be curious.