Angels, Part 1

**It’s only been 16 years since I wrote this, but it seems like a lifetime!**

 

Taste the filth of my inactivity

The rancidness

I stand as dead

While angels from the past

Taunt me

With hypnotic fleshy lips

And serpentine flowing hips

Or a childlike ponytail

The past creeps in the dark to slap me

 

But I’m not me

I’m motionless

Staring from within some other body

This is not me

 

Finding my way back

Would be to enter the past

My body lies covered in dust

In a box of mementos

Something hidden away

Where only time can find it

 

Maybe I can find it

And I can lure the angels down

Seeds can lie dormant

And grow at will

So can I

And I can raise angels

 

-May 4, 1996

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