He first appeared only in an eye corner,

the image flickering through my open window

like a lightning bolt would’ve, bold,

yet fleeting enough to seem unreal.

Any mortal would’ve failed, and glissaded

down those greasy, pangolin-scale slates,

but his striding boasted of a certainty

way too genuine for the early morning,

so I guess he must’ve been a god, or

possibly an angel clutching a ticket home.

With the cathedral summit crested,

and my unnecessary attention now all his,

he raised two arms and punched a hole

in the unexpected emptiness above him,

before laughing his heart to pieces and

letting go of that burdensome anchor,

as he flew off to the other side of the sky.


first published in Ink, Sweat and Tears, 2016


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