Walking through the corridor
Of lost messengers
Their wings brush my cheeks
Insubstantial reminder.
A brief flutter as I
Hold my hands, a mock, shock.
To postpone this feeling
Fingers trace a box.
Stumbling a moment into
Golden dust defining river
Flows across my breast
Held close! That spear
Impaling, floods heat and!
A splinter prick wall.
Oozes saline in the corner.
Basilisk shy, shunned
Just please? To see a face.
The venom seeping through,
I fear the reflection.
Drop me. Clod over the cracks.
I turn to stone.
Author notes
Well, it could be longer. But it's early. And I felt like it.
Angel: Intermediary between Heaven and Earth. A messenger.
Basilisk: A creature whose gaze turns any looker to stone. Defeated with a mirror.
Clod: Lump of earth.
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