untitled 2 [original]
angie morell
it floats through the air, an opus
a euphoric trip, Life depends on Life
the scratches, sound and breaks remind us
of when we were young, our words cut like
grass, while green, it held our heads up
the shades of sky will coat our eyes in
kaleidoscope shapes, all sin, no hate, what luck.
our freckles electrify fingers, face and skin
souls collide, fringe, knots up and gets stuck.
in the face of our Maker, we will grin
and shutter. the fact that we are above
hope, fear, tears with flags high and chins up
is laced with blasphemy; we are original sin,
so says letters signed, ‘with love’.
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