Raoul Izzard

Cold as the dorm was, we elected
to go out into the blankness before
us, before the others came back home.
More than miraculous, the angels
we had formed in the new fallen snow,
lost their substance to the disbelief
of thawing, worrying at the frayed edges,
unpicking the wing tips, flake by flake.
We watched our chilly silhouettes
in the warm and wondered at our
earthbound selves outside ascending.

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    […] Angels […]


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