Weeping Angel

Is. That accursed, stubborn being.

Thinking of the droplets that run

down your face, your sacrilegious form.

Bursting, bloody droplets that sing

away, under trapped chloroform, a kidnapping.

I who cry. Is. Two can't be the same.

round the lines of lone lands lie,

a seeded shell, as unborn virgins

ripen, stink, jerky contest. The smooth

poison that emerges, cuckooing android sound,

like the living were never either those

of live and die.

Swirling ova swimming streaming sinking

Is. Why won't you just go away?

That insistent murder, happen as your

bloodied lips touch mine. Mine, they say,

are wet. Sacrilegious. Sacred, beauty

bless me, apart. Amen. All hear.

The present tugs. Pull, look back,

into demons' shrines of the torrents

tugging what our lack leaves into

twisted heaven falling apart through

chains that freed the polar certain

call. Mighty howl it weaves.

You belong to neither, sweet shadow. Neither

sly nor soothing, our state as angels weep.

Fly past churches of cities gone, teeming in

counts of clowns without make-up and that

maniac laugh. They that assemble. Slice.

Is; our fresh fruit's blood into grass seep.

Why love an order that despises? You are but

the sweetest angel, I a shadow of devils

uncountable. Your ark always above my lair

as I shepherd you out of a confused glory.

You, my dear angel, weep on. Do look up.

Thy tears I yearn for our fruit to blossom fair.