Wednesday, December 10, 2008
I have known this angel for a while
except her wings are made
out of microwavable TV dinner trays.
Don't we all want the truth?
And the lies?
Really. Because what are we without one?
And sometimes she cries
for no reason--
with her head
in the kitchen and her belly
in the bathroom.
Don't we all want
to freeze in the flames
and tell everyone
that are still going to happen?
She forgives us all,
but while she sleeps.
Only in our dreams
we can't be scared
because there isn't any rage at all.
she shut the front door on me and said,
"Don't we all just speak through walls anyway?"
And I held onto the knob
Do we want to understand our parents in our age or theirs?
She whispered and my fingertips moistened,
"If we know, then what's left?"