here in the soft edge
of the blood moon,
i hold you inside
my alice mind.

i have coconut bruises
on my black leather knees.

i have seen the angel song,
felt it push out of my
stitched together throat.

it is not what you might think.

it is mighty and fearful.

it left me rendered, shambling ~
humbled and beautifully reduced.

it is sunlight flame, burning
all the demons away ~ melting
carefully fashioned masks.

it is a wake that leaves no
stone unturned.

it is not something wise men seek,

it is found only through the truly
turned turmoil of a tender soul.

when we walk with angels, our
eyes burn bright, skin glowing in
the dark ~ touch us and we burn,
turning lies inside out, truth
lays delicate and opened wide.

we are fearsome creatures, stone
in our bones and stars in our blood.