Talking with Angels

"If you could sense the longing of the weight for light -
If you could grasp the yearning of the light for weight -
Then you would taste ecstasy."
Talking With Angels

"It is not necessary to believe
The believable," Angels said.
Yoked together, something breathed through us.
Rain veils the house, the house fills with voices.
Sweat and dust on my fingers - cells decay
And fall. With every motion of the breath
The mind reshapes itself. I feel like death
Living with this past dying inside me.
We dance in search of perfect condition,
Bearing witness to the spine-charging thrill
Of every dawn. Overuse makes flesh sulk,
The nerves nag as we explore the present.
Guarded by neither Nazis nor Angels,
Have we come to want to leave the planet?