Fallen angels we are, wandering still
across the eternity of suspended moments,
through this grey land of restraint
and tidy, petty joys to be forgotten
or shown like notices on a wall.
We try to remember what we are,
where we are or when should we be,
but our hands carry no promises nor gold,
our knowledge brings no bodily action,
our voices sound soft, our smiles tempting
but we fail to invite your heart and soul
to the intensity of your own emotions
on which we relentlessly feed
to nurture a body within a body.

We fall for the glory of the body, you and I,
but only the body keeps us from falling further.
Concept strays you from the uniqueness
of every single breath we both take.
Would you, then, stop breathing for me
and gaze like that, carefully listening
to the secret rhythms of within?
Would you just be, just for me,
the ghosts and lights that play you at night?
We would live in the space between our eyes
and something else that watches through them,
pulsating at the slow pace that the heart hides,
showing the angel, showing the body,
like seeing a yellow light through a barn door.

When I’m the angel, I’m just an image
with a single reflection within your dark eyes,
a restless mind waiting for the body to be awoken,
a sharp stare chasing the emotions of belonging,
neither good nor evil, enclosed and damned,
isolated and open to the magic intensities
of your childlike eyes and wise fingers,
watching myself breathe, watching the thoughts,
watching the unrequested pounding of the heart
that deafens and pulls outside, watching no more.
My eyes become sharp, and bright, and piercing,
my hands stretch and hold strong
but they belong to your image in me, to your body.
We look for the unknown damnation that redeems.

At dawn, we leave our towers to fly
and we drop our wings to walk free, you and I.
I give you my wings so that you can offer
your white feathers of bodily desire.
I offer you my gaze without judgement
so that you return the unbound emotion.
I present you the challenging words
for a world that changes by being stared at
and you render the breath of laughter and fire.
I call you my angel, to hear an echo in your voice.
Together, we climb and fall and climb again,
we share the rage for the redemption that no one promised,
leaving and returning to those places
we once swore to cherish and guard.

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