the angel with eight wings and no halo. you fly above sleepless cities at night and yearn for the glowing lights. you are the angel that wishes to live on earth and kiss all the mortal strangers with cherry lips, red like summer fruit.
the angel who walks among people on earth. you have no wings but there is an otherworldly glow around you, deep and silent like half bitter coffee in the early morning. you sit in hidden libraries and dream of golden skies and flying fish.
the angel with 20 blinking eyes. you are the angel that sends whispers of advice spinning down to earth in silver gusts of wind. you make the tides turn and the papaya flowers blossom in the early springtime.
the guardian angel with a shining halo. the angel who washes the shells like love letters up on sandy beaches. you watch the follies of human beings from a pink cloud in the sky, and cry streams of starlight.
the angel with wings large as oceans. you float above sleeping people and laugh like sunlight. your fingers are the kiss of life as you brush the earth unthinkingly, lightly. you are the angel that sweeps the oceans with your wings, sending sea spray across the land.
the angel who guards the gates to heaven. your golden skin glows like moonlight on water as you peer through the clouds at the earth below. you blink your eyes through golden eyelashes as you hold your golden notebook and write golden words in heaven’s ink.
the angel of loving. your dragonfly wings can barely support you but still you perch on windowsills and rooftops and gaze down at the passers-by at night. you kiss strangers and eat sugar cubes out of the moon’s palm.
the angel who came down from heaven and hides in a dark blue seaside town. the people whisper your name like a secret and dream of feathered wings. your lips taste like salt and red wine and you weep for the skies.
the angel with flowers in her hair. you have the desert in your fingers and the forest in your feet. when you cry, you cry oceans. you are the angel who falls in love with everyone, and everyone falls back in love with you tenfold. summer’s rotten fruit juice flows through your veins.
the angel who sits by the window. your fingers stitch flowers onto the fields and clouds into the skies. heaven is your home, but earth but for all her sadness calls to you; tea in the morning, rain in the evening. your halo, gently gold, unspoiled.
the angel who smokes a cigarette outside a downtown bar. your feathered wings are nothing to the neon signs. you look like a painting as you dance under the flashing lights, brushing the hands of everyone as you spin circles.
the angel who lost his wings a hundred moons ago and now leaves footprints in white sands. in your dreams you float amongst the stars and kiss the fingertips of heaven’s angels, but when you awaken you are left only to the warm waters of the pacific ocean.
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