Passage [https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1081627664932159620/1148820475057815553/anti_pirate_graphic_-_walking_in_sky_-_poetry_vol_1_-_white.png]

You have seen the bumbling angels

aroused in this house,

my unintentional secret.

Awakened by your night deep chill,

they clothe themselves in our

material possessions.

They fashion arms from candlesticks,

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

make hands with matchstick fingers

and assemble flammable, flowing, drapery wings.

Their love of being seen, a longing

to be consumed, is unbearable fire,

but is little heat against the unmelting

snow of time.

Their new wings make

only wind, no friction.

They lack the presence of flesh,

but their hands burn to rub together.

All they claim is whispered passage.

All they have is another's old home.

They keep our keys in their locks,

keep us on our threshold,

keep us from coming home.

-Kat Isacson

[https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1081627664932159620/1148820475057815553/anti_pirate_graphic_-_walking_in_sky_-_poetry_vol_1_-_white.png]