we invented angels . 

beneath the brawn of skin
the pock of age 
spinning sweat for escape 
a purpose for craned necks
and volume for books 

we needed a shape for hope. 

indescernable from our fevered tongues
to spill us from these iron lungs
compressants quenched
and lift toward the spiraling smoke 
the ecstacy of backroom chatter 
of porch-lit memory 

we invented angels. 

kept captive, an inch away 
from the yaw of our lips
trembling to speak a waking name
to kiss; 
to tithe something pure 
to wrest something back
--anything
for the toil of our lives 

we invented angels.

a prayer, 
a need to look with a thousand eyes 
a sacrilege to take what's mine 
and yet my hands are so strong and so deft
and yet falling feels so good 
and yet love is so cheap and fast
and everything. 

everything is sin
dripping red and wet skeletons
sprinting through the night down on all fours
churning ancient over forest floors 
where no angel could even see what's right
but gods be damned: a rant
"this is what church should feel like" 

but lo,
we invented angels 

these things that look away 
while demanding our gaze 
under the vague weight 
of iron .