plush meadow thick, like the mopof an evergreen lovespeckled instinctively with dandelionsmarking its fertility–i bring my palm to my duafewhich beast of the divinebestowing her highest honorreleasing it all carried;re-entering the souptime’s folding us all into the dawn of my thirty-fourth–yes us all, broken down.ribs sprouting with floral aplombtufts of fur and moss matrimoniali don’t wrestle my angelwe kiss sweetlyafter sharing the heavenly cupshe shares with me the burdenof misattributed humanitywe swap prophetic missives of beautyat once, a faithful servant angel asks “do you know how it feelsto die and be re-born?” i tighten my grip and stare off into rigid darkmy death never quite holdshow naive i was in youthour lessons never far behindus a raven honks“amelia, it was just a false alarm”i soothe earth angeli say “we’re reflections of each other”i pray it’s really truesitting where god’s feetonce were grass bearing phantom hefttears shed for wilder rebirthsand to be rid of the pain————————————–beatrice bee called us from Philadelphia, PA.voicemailpoems.org/submit/facebook.com/voicemailpoemsx.com/voicemailpoemsbsky.app/profile/voicemailpoems.bsky.socialinstagram.com/voicemailpoems