CRUMBLING WALLS AND ANGELS
Each untested pillar shadows conclusion,
the mystery of once;
prisons of form, anatomy, and proportion,
surge beneath a hood of ash.
The indifference of beaten wings
fades coldly like prayer manifested
within the varicose mantle.
Because there is a difference
between rust and blood,
crescents of fractured alabaster
revolve around a feathery dream:
chiseled moment, finger-touch edges;
the patience of planets
that will not die, or slowly die,
watching with the heavy hands of angels.