Angels strong
like cotton gins
in the freezer lights
catch arabesque turns
in their pocket candy
hands
strung gently so as
not to fall
they prick each other’
s lips with
longing knife-touches
below, in the spray
of sheer blood run
cool maidens, unaware of
whites: moon dances in the
glenny forest sacking locks
of curled hair while
above, the rain is gentle
hail crafting contemplated waters
the brows left unfurrowed
in the spinning chosen touch