A Different Kind of Angel
She rests
her wings of red satin
against the wall
in the dark
that matches
the links of her gown
and the stars in her hair.
They say her beauty
holds
its own dominion.
A perfect salvation.
Immune
to every kind of touch.
But the glare
around her ankle
is fake.
Smaller than it looks.
And flawed
by the blue
flaking from her fingers.
her wings of red satin
against the wall
in the dark
that matches
the links of her gown
and the stars in her hair.
They say her beauty
holds
its own dominion.
A perfect salvation.
Immune
to every kind of touch.
But the glare
around her ankle
is fake.
Smaller than it looks.
And flawed
by the blue
flaking from her fingers.
Learning to Choose Exile
The road to hell
is paved.
In good.
In gold.
And every stone I touch
runs wild.
A molten river
between my toes.
Moving me closer
to the edge.
As I slowly sink
through the floor.
is paved.
In good.
In gold.
And every stone I touch
runs wild.
A molten river
between my toes.
Moving me closer
to the edge.
As I slowly sink
through the floor.
Into the Locked Box of Unbeing
He opens the cage.
And finds her
waiting.
Wearing only what is left
of her skin.
Like diamonds
burning for his touch.
Knowing
that if he looks up
she is smiling.
Behind the shadow
of those eyes
he has trained.
To watch
as the hinges snap them,
once again,
into place.
And finds her
waiting.
Wearing only what is left
of her skin.
Like diamonds
burning for his touch.
Knowing
that if he looks up
she is smiling.
Behind the shadow
of those eyes
he has trained.
To watch
as the hinges snap them,
once again,
into place.
© Amy J. Huffman 2011
A.J. Huffman is a poet and freelance writer in Daytona Beach, Florida. She has previously published her work in literary journals, in the U.K. as well as America, such as Avon Literary Intelligencer, Eastern Rainbow, Medicinal Purposes Literary Review, The Intercultural Writer's Review, Icon, Writer's Gazette, and The Penwood Review.
Odd - I read and enjoyed these thinking 'A J Huffman' to be male. Discovering that the author is Amy was disconcerting. Not sure why. Well-evoked images.
ReplyDeleteI'll be honest and say I'm not one for deciphering poetry so I'll only say I enjoyed the word images you left
ReplyDeleteMost excellent graphic piece Amy.
ReplyDelete"Wearing only what is left of her skin". What an evocative line.
The last one is smooth and enticing.
ReplyDelete