Saturday, May 1, 2010

Stained-glass & vestigial wings

You can see him, there,
in the mirroriing eyes:
the fallen seraph,
hiding behind the smile.

He is umbillic-less;
he finds in the darkness,
the bright glass -- solace.
It is never enough;

his subsistence continues--
for melodies persist
even as lyrics evanesce
along vaulted angles.

Absent the close-tucked
memories, the layered tufts --
pinioned, he stalks this world
unbearably light; amnesic.

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