Do angels have ichor within their veins?
Or is it just vampires and demons and
sundry undead? I knew one once. Maybe
two. The ape of an angel at least, she
was. Maybe they. I could have should asked
her, I'd have never bled her. But I suspect
(or reckon at least) if they do,
it would be mother-pearly white,
with thick iridescent sheens rainbow'd through.
Not all that thick sludge to appall our affright.
It would be like the sun, just caught
by the dew. Except far more solidity
then a dewdrop. Like crystal like carbon
like far harder more. Like matter itself
made liquid to flow through such veins
apprehensively permanent pure.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
but aren't they all random?
Friday, January 29, 2021
Metanatural circulatory speculations
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment