i wish, as angels begin to fall.
slowly, silently.
you are not real.
i cannot feel you.
the angels fall into the bare wet sky.
they die away like tears.
they are beautiful, melting things.
night sucks the black haired trees.
i walk the cold wet streets alone,
my broken wings limp & dragging.
i drag my cross from the meadow
to the garden of ashes.
sevlesmeht ruoved sbmot eht
the tombs devour themselves.
