Work Text:
Angels waiting in vacancy,
Preening wings by dead gods.
For my sister told me a good story has no order, only something together.
In her harmonies she sweeps worlds away.
I know not of my talent but the way I screamed
When losing order Hansel and Gretel left their home after being eaten alive.
And in that way the corpses mouth rests wide open in agony at the loss of any melody to orchestrate,
A sisters divine act of creation knows none but an Angel.
And an Angel came down to me,
With its crow-footed glory.
I know it was mine to fulfill as each peck stuck to me
Like blood on feathers
Like good things and leaving
It stuck like a Vice.
And hope ,in its smoky featherless glory, reached out to me
His lighter too dim to truly see what ghost he was.
So hope, the rabid dog, sliced me open and splayed me raw,
And that crowfooted thing I knew best as a father plucked at my ribs til there was nothing to harvest.
For in my time of worship I was nothing but a good devotee.
I found myself in only the distance from perfection,
I found terror in my sisters eyes.
When an Angel is asked “what have you become”
,Her breath stuttering past it’s practiced harmonies,
I put in place every card to hold me.
And looking past the gambler as a fickle thing let me forget luck,
As I lost for the only time that could ever be.
Sermon spat out of my mouth at such a vile sinner
That mirror, loveless he.
And in a wager I was past far from plan but to orchestration.
Each instrument tuned and ready saved for my doubts which festered
My sister, my darling sister, is it the melody that carries thee?
For each time I looked at your casket I knew what awaited me.
My deals, my sweet reveries
My repentance will be in my destruction simply
Onto you I bestow my blessings
Goodbye, farewell and my sorrows
And with a crow foot stuck to my heart I bleed out in a melody so close to sin.