Lesley Mitchell, dkscully at geah.org ©2002 Poetry

Growling Angels

"Listen," she said.
Angels growling would speak so.

Not a velvet voice,
but prisoner to the universe's ferocious embrace
& naked to the dazzling stars.

Poisoned with smoke and champagne,
it pierced my bones, like firey kisses.

My lips devouréd.
LGM 21.vii.2002
Celtic cross at St. Gregory's Minster
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