Now angel, far
dreams lie fallow.
Tear ducts, weep
falls of dust.
Wither my arms,
so I can soar.
Stone chest, a brace
for god like wings.
And of earthly hunger.
Love and anger.
Of triumphs, the
ache of human pain.
Or an early love,
when the bedside light
went black.
Will you take my sadness,
strip it out. Gutted on
the butcher’s floor.
Once all I was.
Do angels get indigestion?
I pray that they do.
©️ Dai Fry Revised 24th May 2020..