Amy Kitchener's Angels Without Wings
Presents STORY STANZA POETRY
at me and
I accepted it with
a baby's lusty cry. Life
slung hash at me, and I
gobbled it like a piece of cake.
Sight clung close to me, and I saw
through mud of earth the sparkling stars of dreams.
Lust hung me on the cross and I bled copiously
until the piercing nails dissolved and, resurrected, I arose.
Now, from beyond the grave of mortal crucifixion,
yet possessed of body, mind and soul,
I sense you, gentle Giftgiver of Deliverance.
Wrap me in turquoise wings.
I surrender appetites and--