Love

I killed an angel.
A cherubim.
I'm no atheist,
but I was tired
of
him.
Sneaking around corners.
Adjoining the two.
Preying on mourners.
So far and few.
I caught him at a cafe,
with his arrow midair.
I snatched him from his perch.
Dragged him by the hair.
I killed an angel.
A cherubim.
And dark clouds
rolled.
And the sky grew dim.
But love is by chance.
There is no design.
Let there be no interference
from man or
divine.
I saw his soul rise
up in the air.
I kept his bow as a souvenir.

by Tina Sena

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Comments (1)

Your Meany! give me the spear. Hugs Jan