by Gemma Higgins

Created on: November 06, 2011   Last Updated: November 08, 2011

My angel is headless
But tall she does stand
Criss-crosses of purple
And wax in her hand
A soft glow above her
Spun glass for her wings
Dust on her shoulders
Nerves bounded with string
Her shadow is hallow
Her skin hides no tale
The noon cannot touch her
The night melts to pale

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