The Statue of a Winged Angel

The graveyard was drunk during this deep winter's day

There was no snow, but everything was dry - and cold

I looked up, beyond the knightly fence that shot up in crescent spikes,

Felt the rush of invisible wind go up my spine

What I saw, you will not believe

Right there, in the middle of the grounds-

An angel

A statue of a winged angel

In its face an expression I cannot-

I could never begin to describe,

Even if I tried, for all my life.

This statue was perched up on a pillar overlooking the entire graveyard

And I could not stand to look it in the eyes

Having just landed, wings closed in for a second's rest,

With cracks expanding from its feet onto the platform where it landed

As if, the earth would fall apart from the wrath and unworldly strength, hidden between plain sight and the other place,

At any moment

The expression on that face of perfection as it stood in knowing stillness,

Carved in pristine concrete, frozen mid-scream:

A sorrow I could never begin to fathom I immediately yanked my neck back,

Looked away, away and far far away I could not I would never look back at the face of that angel ever again never ever I needed to burn my skin my insides struck out an earthquake

I was appalled. Appalled I had to shut my eyes while my organs proceeded to perish individually,

I could feel the blood in my veins and oh how I,

How horridly I longed to look at the angel's face again as remnants of a fire, put out, ricocheted within the confines of my dry throat

The fear in that moment of my half-open eyes you will never believe,

One unfathomed, coming from admonishable anger.

That fear alone shook my eyes, now half-open slits,

Eyes that, in their nauseous repulsion and rage, hungered to see the angel's face,

Again,

And I did-

Having left its post on top the pillar, right before the gates

Standing in front of my

Face,

Holding my chin and looking at me with the deepest

Sadness, a sorrow

Truer than my existence, which I began to question,

A sadness,

I cannot begin to describe oh god

I SHUT my eyes again a thousand involuntary yells of terror rushed forth from the basin of my shins

Was the angel

Still here?

Was it still clasping both my cheeks and looking at

Me?

Was it?

I don't know how long I lasted, standing there, what felt like years elapsing I at last forced my eyes open a third time and the angel was back

Back on the pillar,

Eyes covered,

Covered with both hands.