Heavier than Heaven.
The first memory of you
is a dust-drenched window pane
lit up by the rising sun,
you, laying in a pool of light,
accented by the enveloping
white sheets and pillows.
Your feathers surround you,
hazy in the intense light,
but visible nonetheless.
It's hard to breathe,
hard to tell
whether or not
these feathers come from the angel
or the pillows which surround her.
Regardless, she's celestial
wings or not
a seraphim.
Finally you open your eyes,
I'm nearly blinded
by the shining azure.
Flames surround your head
as the sunlight shifts
away from the clouds.
How can I not love you?
When you finally speak,
your plump red lips,
your voice,
all of it speaks to me.
No words are worthy of your voice
and yet my ears are blessed by it.
Hark, angel.
I love you.
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