what is an angel?

i sit by the window, clouds rolling over the greengrowth hills, sheets of rain dancing through the atmosphere

warmth and flesh and blood and sweat

an angel has wings, it's gotta have wings

lashes of earthsea whip against the glass, strike onto the bricks

the darkness hides us all, bodies become what we want them to

big wings, light and feathered, so soft you'd wanna steal one to keep it in your cap, just to show it off

the earth cries, and yet, is absolved

spaces between atoms become holy, sacred; nothing ever touches, and yet, we touch each other

and a halo too, if you can't see a halo, is it even an angel?

the clouds part, a whispercrack slicing through the blanket above

our lips are just as far apart now as they were then, electrons don't understand distance like we do

i think it must be. it has to be one. real as the day we were born.