And in the grasp of
the moon’s tight fist
I thought you looked like an angel,
like Gabriel—
an Archangel.
I thought that should the
sun come up in a few hours
that you would perhaps fade away
into nihility—
into stardust.
I thought you were the
most beautiful thing I’d ever seen
and I thought that you weren’t even real;
completely artificial—
a mannequin.
You looked so childish in your
sleep and oh how I longed to
push aside those stray
golden locks—
your halo.
But like a Seraph—
you burn.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 11:59 PM UTC
And in the grasp of
the moon’s tight fist
I thought you looked like an angel,
like Gabriel—
an Archangel.
I thought that should the
sun come up in a few hours
that you would perhaps fade away
into nihility—
into stardust.
I thought you were the
most beautiful thing I’d ever seen
and I thought that you weren’t even real;
completely artificial—
a mannequin.
You looked so childish in your
sleep and oh how I longed to
push aside those stray
golden locks—
your halo.
But like a Seraph—
you burn.
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