For all the joys around no longer appeases
But then again I hear a voice
So sweet and supple it makes me wonder if I have a choice.
To rise up from this madness
And find solace in some distant fortress.
An angel stands before me as enchanting as can be
Shocking every bone, every inch of me
Eyes in which fleets are blown astray.
So enthralling a gaze, dare I look away
For at a moments notice sight can be
this article was published in our print quarterly number seven, Words.
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